Drop
Lyrics
Whoa, Kenny
Damn
Got her legs up (Legs up), like a Tesla truck (Tesla truck)
That bitch said I fucked her bed up, uh, made her catch the nut
I got niggas in the feds but that time don't get the best of them
I gotta keep one in the head, bruh, get caught without it then you're fuckin' dead
I got the work out, I beat the block out
I had to workout, niggas got knocked out
I had that dirt, I'm talkin' 'bout dirt
Guess what, bitch? I got that drop now
Was snipin' so wrong, that's when the pockets touched down
My niggas reckless, they robbin' the trucks now
Talkin' 'bout Brinks, for these Cuban links
Wrist game crazy, think I need a shrink
All of my killers gon' spray for me
Right or wrong, they not gon' fight at all (Bitch)
Better ask 'bout the last nigga play with me (Play with me)
We aired him out, he wasn't livin' long
I'm on the designer shit, on the designer shit (Designer)
I'm in your city gettin' head by the finest bitch
You ain't livin' like that, you just on some rhymin' shit
Walk in with my chains and I change the climate, bitch
I'm a Rich Shoota, might spin in the Ghost
Extended my flow, bitch, I'm a GOAT (A GOAT)
I think I know why these old niggas mad
21, and I'm rich, and they startin' to get mold (Bitch)
That's not a hundred pounds, that's not a load
Where I'm from it be goin' down, you can get smoked
We slide on your block, no joke
Ride with a Glock, turn an opp ass to toast
Take his bitch to my crib and I
Got her legs up (Legs up), like a Tesla truck (Tesla truck)
That bitch said I fucked her bed up, uh, made her catch the nut
I got niggas in the feds but that time don't get the best of them
I gotta keep one in the head, bruh, get caught without it then you're fuckin' dead
I got the work out, I beat the block out
I had to workout, niggas got knocked out
I had that dirt, I'm talkin' 'bout dirt
Guess what, bitch? I got that drop now
Was snipin' so wrong, that's when the pockets touched down
My niggas reckless, they robbin' the trucks now
Talkin' 'bout Brinks, for these Cuban links
Wrist game crazy, think I need a shrink
Why you keep talkin' like that? You don't mean it
Damn, niggas hate for no reason (No reason)
24/7, that's kick door season (Kick door season)
Got bricks, I need 'em (I need it)
I got that hundred round clip, I feed it
.556 leave you not breathing
You in love with a bitch, me and A can't be dreamin'
Niggas tweet on the 'net, don't say shit when they see us
Oh shit, that's 12, I'ma yam it out (Yam it out)
One trap, two bricks, them young niggas jammin' out (They jammin' out)
Three things I care about (Care about)
My sons, Rich Shootas, bitch, and that drug route
Take it to the kitchen, bust it down
Take it to the room and bust her down
All my guns come from Russia now (Russia)
I got custom rounds
Got her legs up (Legs up), like a Tesla truck (Tesla truck)
That bitch said I fucked her bed up, uh, made her catch the nut
I got niggas in the feds but that time don't get the best of them
I gotta keep one in the head, bruh, get caught without it then you're fuckin' dead
I got the work out, I beat the block out
I had to workout, niggas got knocked out
I had that dirt, I'm talkin' 'bout dirt
Guess what, bitch? I got that drop now
Was snipin' so wrong, that's when the pockets touched down
My niggas reckless, they robbin' the trucks now
Talkin' 'bout Brinks, for these Cuban links
Wrist game crazy, think I need a shrink
Writer(s): George Hundall, Kenneth Charles III Blume, Nils Noehden
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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