Lyrics
Now, this is where it gets all nuts
And it gets all crazy
So let's roll
Mantis in the round bar
Spare junkies
This production's where everyone's been to
I don't even want no R's on this
I'll show you how to make a bang in five minutes
Sounds of the gigs
Tracky title, ice cream
Or should I say tech
Check the workout
I ain't feeling any love
Niggas plotting to murder me
And trust me, I feel it in my blood
Believe me, I'm a fuck
But I'm blessed by the Lord
Think I'm crazy if I'm not feel it from above
Recognize the G, yeah
Shooter up in the shoot
Shit, these niggas started recognizing me
But motherfucker, don't be pressurizing me
Got my pistol siding me
If I lift it, that's just exercise for me
I'm running out of pump
Smoked about a nosy 'cause I'm low-key
And I ain't coming out for months
But when I start running out, I'm pumped
Shells hit your back, I'm coming out the front
Got a blunt to pull, a pumpy tool
Nigga, I don't stunt with you
Don't let me get the ump with fools
Why's that?
That's a silly fucking stunt to pull
Niggas like me bang bang
Rolling in a white-ish van
Got a straddle and a Nike bag
And I ain't got a icy hand
But the way I talk white
I should be the new ice cream man
Yeah, it's bloody bad
Rolling in a white-ish van
Got a straddle and a Nike bag
And I ain't got a icy hand
But the way I talk white
I should be the new ice cream man
Now I keep toasters packed
Rolling with a loaded mash
Got a straddle with a scope and that shit
These niggas must be smoking crack
'Cause the nose on the Luger is similar to postman Pat's
If I ever get my foot in the door, all these fake ass rappers