Mister Glock 2
Mister Glock 2

Paper Route EMPIRE, Key Glock - Mister Glock 2 Lyrics

12
Mister Glock 2 Music Video

Mister Glock 2 Lyrics

(Yo, Mannie)
(Let the BandPlay)
Glizock
Yeah
Yeah

Wockhardt all in my kidneys (Wock', Wock')
I'm one hustlin'-ass young nigga
I got racks stuffed all in my denim (yup, yup)
I'm one money-gettin'-ass lil' nigga
You know that I keep me a pistol (baow)
Yeah, I stayed down and my money got bigger
Now they callin' my Mister (who?) Glock
Yeah, yeah, Mister Shit On All His Opps
Yeah, bitch, I'm Mister Flex a Lot
Yeah, Mister Stack It 'Til It Rot
Yeah, Mister Don't Care What It Cost
Yeah, Mister Let that Chopper Talk
Yeah, Mister Spend That Shit and
Get That Shit Right Back 'Cause It Ain't Nothin' (yeah)

Play with Glizock, then you're done
Where I'm from, we shoot shit for fun
Fourteen, smokin' dope, shootin' guns
Yeah, fifteen, flippin' Os or onions
Sixteen, takin' niggas' money
Seventeen, had juggers jumpin'
Eighteen, got locked up for hustlin'
Nineteen, made a milli', motherfucker (ayy)
Paper Route business, motherfucker (yeah)
I handle my business, motherfucker
Yeah, I get busy, motherfucker
Just mind your business, motherfucker
Run me my digits, motherfucker
Can't sign no dealy, motherfucker (uh-uh)
Nah, I can't sign shit unless it's eight figures, motherfucker (the fuck?)
Yeah, fuck all that, I ain't sellin' my soul
I'll just go back to sellin' them 'bows (yeah)
I'm stickin' to the code
I'll never put a bitch before my dough, no
That's on my soul
Everybody know that I keep this shit on
And I keep one on me (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Everybody know Glock don't give no fuck about a nigga or his homie
Self-made nigga, yeah, I'm a loner
Who want smoke? Yeah, bitch, I'm a stoner
Ayy, come get your bitch, man, you must don't want her
Yeah, I beat that thing up and you know I boned her
Hit it out the park, yeah, I'm talkin' 'bout a home run
Now I got this bitch head gone-gone
She said that she love me long-long
Time is money, bitch
I am addicted to hustlin', bitch
Remember them days I was strugglin', bitch
Fast-forward that, now I'm havin' it, bitch
Yeah, winnin', havin' this shit
Money, choppers and choppers and shit
I keep me a bad-ass saddity lil' bitch
Keep somethin' on my hip and somethin' to sip, nigga, I got (what?)

Wockhardt all in my kidneys (Wock', Wock')
I'm one hustlin'-ass young nigga
I got racks stuffed all in my denim (yup, yup)
I'm one money-gettin'-ass lil' nigga
You know that I keep me a pistol (baow)
Yeah, I stayed down and my money got bigger
Now they callin' my Mister (who?) Glock
Yeah, yeah, Mister Shit On All His Opps
Yeah, bitch, I'm Mister Flex a Lot
Yeah, Mister Stack It 'Til It Rot
Yeah, Mister Don't Care What It Cost
Yeah, Mister Let that Chopper Talk
Yeah, Mister Spend That Shit and
Get That Shit Right Back 'Cause It Ain't Nothin' (yeah, what the fuck?)

Wockhardt all in my kidneys (Wock', Wock')
I'm one hustlin'-ass young nigga
I got racks stuffed all in my denim (yup, yup)

Shit, for real, though
Yup, yup
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Writer(s): Markeyvius Cathey
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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