Walked Down
Lyrics
We got big straps, heavy checks
Oh yeah (bitch, you know Antt did the beat)
Ain't nothin' light over here, we got big straps, heavy checks (facts)
Girlie almost killed us in the whip, she got some deadly neck (slow down)
Dog say we beefin', he just talkin' with his petty ass (rah-rah)
Catch him out in traffic, get to tossin' at his scary ass (what's up?)
We ain't stoppin' shit, they hit them lights and we gon' scratch off (we gone)
Fuck I look lettin' you pull me over in this Trackhawk? (No cap)
Icy chain, plain watch, temper short, bag long
In the trenches, strikers out, fully on me, mask on (yeah)
Niggas can't come 'round the guys no more (man, fuck niggas)
Niggas can't get pieces of our pies no more (fuck these niggas)
I ain't savin' niggas' lives, sparin' niggas' wives
Givin' none of these pussy-ass niggas fries no more (don't put your hand out)
I'm with HorseTheOne, you know that boy ain't no joke (that boy ain't no joke)
I'm with mari red, you know that nigga gon' blow (that nigga gon' shoot)
Ayy, I ain't talkin' Captain Jay's, glizzy got a fifty piece
Pretty-ass Arabic, Chaldean sneaky link (uh-huh)
Fifty 'bow sale, 'bout to pull up to L. George's (uh-huh)
Pockets enormous, we cook shit like George Foreman (go get 'em)
Piss me off, I'm puttin' that on you, no back and forthin' (the bag)
Headshot his ass, he survive, he won't be normal (bah)
'Member I was broke, so fuckin' hungry, boy, I could've cried (no cap)
Brodie had a meal, my hands together, I'm like, "Bust the fries" (let me get some of them)
Crazy how them niggas was the man, they ain't got no money now (they finished)
I got all the money now (they finished), don't give me them puppy eyes, nigga
Is you dyin' for me? (Is you with me?) I don't want you then (then beat it)
I just dumped two pints, I'm tryna skip the day (fuck it)
My shooter dyslexic, his ABCs start with K (baow)
An FN (brrt) and K, yeah (oh yeah)
Niggas piss poor, wouldn't even fuck on they bitch (I'll take her to there)
Get on they brother ass with a switch (grr)
Double down until I got 'bout ten on my wrist (bust it)
Rolls-Royce kit came with an assist (skrrt)
Blinders on, it's tunnel vision, I still don't miss (okay)
Fuck experience, baby, it's all inside of the wrist (okay)
We the Hot Boys, I'm geekin', this ain't Tris (uh-uh)
Pour piss 'fore I ever sip that shit (can't do it)
Me goin' back and forth with niggas, that's unheard of (uh-uh)
Get me out of the loop, I been seein' double
My dog think it's a ball game, dog stay in trouble (trippin')
Pretty bitch just like the game, I'ma hit the bubble (no cap)
Man, fuck this nigga thinkin' tryna test some rubbles? (What's wrong with him?)
All that petty shit he flexin' to me like pebbles (that's light)
All this ice, I need a shovel (yeah)
It's on, I need a metal (uh-huh)
Poppin' shit with no buttons just like kettles (uh-huh)
Writer(s): Terry Sanchez Wallace, Miles Parks McCollum
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Exploration Group LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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