Lyrics
At school I ain't type
Why the fuck would I go tight with opp niggas that ain't right (Huh)
L462
Gang
At school I ain't type
Why the fuck would I go tight with opp niggas that ain't right
I'm high as a kite
I'm popping Xans through the night
Then crack a opp top like a sprite
I'm leaning on kickstand
You put on your pinny, I load up my semi
Let's meet in the field and blitz then
Catch his ass in traffic,
Make him do a donut, tryna skrt off got his whip spinning
I got the bag and bitch I got the
Mula, don't look my direction we guaped up
Walk in the club all my niggas got
Semis, don't look at my section we glocked up
Pussy boy thought he was gifted well then treat his ass like a gift get him boxed up
You snitching yourself saying names in your
Raps, no you not living that now you locked up
Lot of money mean a lot of hundreds,
Pretty bitches on me I be fucking hoes
War beater and a heart breaker,
She can love the dick but I ain't cuffing hoes
Not a rainbow I like different color
Money, blue strips, fell in love with those
Spinning like Jack in the Box we been
Cracking the opps, with my shottas we clutchin' 4s
Moving around with my gang members,
Them the same niggas that ain't fuck with you
Claiming that's yo brother but he snitching,
That's the same nigga that was praying with you
How yo ass my brother we got different
Struggles, sandbox I wasn't fucking with you
Got a little older, moved to the trap house and in fact I wasn't paying with you
At school I ain't type
Why the fuck would I go tight with opp niggas that ain't right
I'm high as a kite
I'm popping Xans through the night
Then crack a opp top like a sprite
I'm leaning on kickstand
You put on your pinny, I load up my semi
Let's meet in the field and blitz then
Catch his ass in traffic,
Make him do a donut, tryna skrt off got his whip spinning
Choppa be singing that bitch can hit C notes
Save my bro like a hero
Shooting at villains,
Drum come with a 50, we blowing this bitch 'til it's zero
And that fuck shit, I can't fuck with,
I see through these niggas like a peephole
Tooth fairy came every night, I was stuffing the racks in my pillow
I got bands bitch,
But still clutching that tool and it
Blow like a motherfucking fan, bitch
Whatchu sayin' bitch,
Heard you talk out yo neck,
Put this tool in yo throat let it blam, bitch
And I ain't lying bitch
On 6-2 we be spraying shit
Peanut butter 'cause that's where we get a opp jammed quick
Told the plug I want Ps, and we pulled up six deep,
Man his ass should've known we wasn't paying shit
Hopping on my little slaughtershit, glocky on me I'mma slide a bitch, geekin' on Xanax and molly bitch
Mixing the Ac with my sprite and shit
30 on me it ain't talk
I might just stick up the plug
I just been doing these jobs
Mixing the sprite with my mud
At school I ain't type
Why the fuck would I go tight with opp niggas that ain't right
I'm high as a kite
I'm popping Xans through the night
Then crack a opp top like a sprite
I'm leaning on kickstand
You put on your pinny, I load up my semi
Let's meet in the field and [?]
Catch his ass in traffic,
Make him do a donut, tryna skrt off got his whip spinning