Anxiety Freestyle
Anxiety Freestyle

Sleepy Hallow - Anxiety Freestyle Lyrics

30
Anxiety Freestyle Music Video

Anxiety Freestyle Lyrics

(Great John on the beat, by the way)

We gon' send that boy up, he scared of heights
Back on the block, we rollin' dice
Girl, if you tryna fuck, come get this pipe
Pop a Perc', now I'm back to life
She like, "Sleepy, I love how you swervin'"
Pull up, back out, we closin' them curtains
Blue sky, yeah, I'm Crippin', they nervous
Move hot, he get flipped like some burgers
Get to shootin' for the love of the set
.30 knock his head off his neck
Lil' bitch, I'm a dog, never seen a vet
I'm the bomb, take it as a threat
Go out with a bang, nigga, win or lose
Bitches petty, they gon' pick and choose
I don't know her name but she call me boo
Let me fuck, but she in love with you
Pull up in a big body, not a coupe
Yeah, big body, not a coupe
Tell 'em free the gang, let my niggas loose
Just a young nigga with the juice
I know what she gon' do, huh
For Balenciaga, Jimmy Choo
My Glock got its own rules, huh
He be tellin' niggas what to do
This car full of felon niggas
I don't bail on niggas
Snitchin', tellin' what we gon' do
Remember we only had one
Tryna turn this shit into a two
Three shots make a nigga snooze
Why you came here? Nigga, for the loot
Five hitters up and let it boom
Know the six-speed help a nigga zoom
Niggas weak, seven days, through
On the eight block, tell 'em come shoot
Seen a nine, now he want a truce
Stood ten toes, still up in the loop

Seen a nine, now he want a truce
Stood ten toes, still up in the loop
Stood ten toes, still up in the loop

Huh, come get lit
Ran off on the plug, we ain't payin' shit
New piece, shoot and shit hit
Chop like Bruce Lee, shit kick
Want smoke? Come and get it
If it's beef, I don't never dead it
Dropped him, he gon' need some paramedics
Bitch bad, but good on her credit, look
Fuck how she look, where the loyalty at?
Hit it once, I ain't callin' her back
Come fuck with the gang, but don't get attached
They just in love with me 'cause I rap
I like to count racks in the trap
Cops pull up, then I'm right out the back
If you got opps, then you can't lack
No strap, then you gettin' whacked

No strap, then you gettin' whacked
No strap, then you gettin' whacked

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

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