42 Dugg, EST Gee - Ice Talk Lyrics

Yeah, yeah (uh, uh)
Yeah, yeah (uh)

Who got the ups on us? (Who got ups on us?)
Strap across your shirt, like, nigga, buckle up (Helluva made this beat, baby)
You can't miss, I send you on that hit, might die, you fuck it up
Perp hole got like tee trimmers, real street nigga, my money up
Wave his bitch like, "Hey, what's up?"
Soon as fat boy get close enough
Niggas don't want bump, they punks, on IG, hope I post 'em up
I talk to them bodies late at night when I be rollin' up

They know it's us
Gone with all that flaggin', bitch, you braggin', now I choke on bruh
.40, that's the caliber, the magazine is seventeen
I got this from Medellín, eighteen times thirty-three
I hope he ain't sellin' dreams, might go back to mailin' keys
I don't want no good bitch, make Dugg bitch a felon, please

My wrist methamphetamine (my wrist methamphetamine)
You know this that ice talk (ice, ice, ice)
Hop out on foot, let pipe off
Yellow tape, white chalk
Ot gettin' this ice off
'Fore a hundred miles every country town around, we beat it down
Used to bag up pieces, sittin' up east listenin' to "Wipe Me Down"

I know they don't like me now
Your brother, sister, cousin (fuck 'em)
Feds ever hit the house, put my shit in the oven
They get cheaper by the roster, grew to a monster
We blow them choppers, bitch
I don't know my alphabets
Tell me, what come after rich?
Play with us, we whackin' shit
Claimin' shit and stampin' shit
Fuck y'all (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

These niggas don't want beef with us, they IG killers
We bendin' blocks in three rentals, I don't see niggas
Keep drillin', bitch, we breed killers, we elite spinners
Big Shiner, keep his heat with him, eat and sleep with it

Wake up
Bitch won't fuck the youngin from the front, go get that makeup
To make sure all my niggas had a piece, I took a pay cut
Ho gon' put this apartment in her name, we need some paystubs
I'm crankin' off fake drugs, did four-hundred in eight months
Ten with me like eight stuffed
The driver like my idol
That's the only bitch I can't touch
These niggas is not me, these niggas is not Gee
Got blow pack, got Roxies
Got weed stamps, its a boxed Gen, I'm top ten

Yeah, go catch one and get locked in
Got out of line and get knocked in
In my city, I'm top ten
Number one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine
With a white boy snortin' H lines
In the side county, niggas can't find
With a .45 on my waistline
Like fuck next, I'm lit now
Crossed over, I'm big slime
I'm still slidin', I'm rich now
Everybody gotta pick sides
Took a risk to hold up my wrist high
My lil' brother took six lives
He a lil' nigga but look 6'5
Can the opps say they didn't hide?
Yeah