Letras
Ayy, Ewell
I 'on't want no autotune, fuck all that shit
Steve Chill on the beat
Sliz Dreams
This how they want me to come
Back the fuck up, ayy, ayy
That's the way it go
I'ma hit this cunt, you hit that cut
Betta know which way to go
Got some information that you bitch niggas would hate to know
Niggas talk that shit but they don't even know who made the O
Drop a bag on ya head, my shootas get paid to blow
Fuck around and slide through the O, like I'm from the O
Let off 23 then 7 more, that's how I come for bro
T. Roy ain't get shot inside his head but he ain't make it though
They got so many dead niggas, bitch I don't know who to smoke
I 'on't know who to smoke, but I'll take Lil Boo to go
I can see him through the smoke
Ayy, ayy, caught his ass comin' out yo crib, shot him through the door
Tweakin' off the mids, I think Lil Steve comin' through the floor
He got caught in traffic, Waldo ain't get to finish his status
He on the internet laughin', cappin', then got caught without it
Fuck yo homie dead, you heard what I said
Fuck Sheroid, fuck Odee, fuck D-Thang, and fuck Tire Head
You niggas hoes to me, you couldn't even get close to me
I keep my heater, it's right by my side
So watch how you walk when approachin' me
Ayy, baldy got smoked by a tree
Run up on him with the stick and smoked him like a leaf
Now they chalkin' up the street
For walkin' up the street, please stop talkin' up the beef
J Money got it the worst of me, that's how it's supposed to be
There's a lot of niggas that I'm not even
Gon' mention but they where they supposed to be
Uh, niggas be thinkin' they killers, uh, you look like a ghost to me
Boy I been smokin' your homie, this shit chokin' me
Mentioning Scrapp ain't gon' get you shit but a brand new grave
We do it for Scrapp, we done fucked around and made 600 change blocks
I'm fresh of a hit, might switch up the clothes, but I got the same Glock
You know what it is, we comin' for more, might shoot up the same block
These niggas mentionin' Tooka, I'll fuck around, send you to meet him
I don't got my Glock, when I see an 'opp, on bro I'ma beat 'em
I'm smokin' Lil Steve can't breath, I'm thinkin' it's over
I wish I was right there when Lil Boo
Got slumped, I would've ran his shit over
(Hold on, hold on, hold on, who is Steve on?)
Pass him to me, we just add him to the family tree
Smacked his ass with the back of the heat
Stello got hit from the back of the seat
(Damn, the back of the seat?)
He tried to get up from the back of the seat
They left his head in the back of the seat
Murder? Who you murdered?
Talkin' about you flippin' shit, what? A burger?
Boy you nervous, you ain't never shot no one in person
You niggas bitches, where y'all purses?
Man you niggas went and dyed y'all hair on purpose
But was it worth it? How that's workin'?
Man I wouldn't be surprised if they start twerkin'
Told 'em stay in tune, bitch I'm workin'
Please don't think shit chicken, this ain't Church, nuh
Tired of puttin' niggas in these hearses
I should get a million for these verses
On foenem grave
You already know how this shit go
Got my blick on me, got my stick on me
Back the fuck up
All you bop ass hoes, all you goofy ass niggas
Memo, stop wearin' that fake ass shit out your daddy van
Bitch!