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lirik lagu 67 - it's frying

[intro: scribz & dimzy]
pacman tv
f-ck you and you’re dead homies
n-ggas wanna act like they see us in the field and keep it stepping
they running leg’s ‘n’ sh-t
6-6-6-67
n-gga’s dashing poles ‘n’ sh-t, remember that
squa’!
squa’!
add a k and you can hold some corn (corn!)
skrr, gun smoke, bang!
devil’s play
67

[hook: dimzy]
about you in the field, you just in your crib, b-tch stop lying
we got smoky things and we smoking things, b-tch be frying
i’m oj so f-ck o tray, b-tch be frying
about you trap rappers with your dead stack you ain’t got no clients
f-ck the opps, we be on the a with anything that’s frying (boom, boom)
i’ll be in notre dame with them smoky things
you know corn’s been flying (boom, boom)
you ain’t been near in your life, you trying to gas up the kids
(f-ck the opps)
and your baby momma be bopping, yeah, she can swallow them kids (she suck)

[verse 1: scribz]
f-ck stizzy, 674 run bricky
you talking shanks, p-ssy n-gga i walk with straps
got a .44 and a f-cking mac
let me make it clear: i don’t f-ck with raq
i love my n-gga ’cause his dotty shack (boom)
he ain’t done sh-t for like six years, now the f-ckboy talking tough on tracks (how?)
back to that map
he tried to run, we hit him in his back (bang)
we had sweets in that dotty tray but we rast his -ss with the flipping mac
67, we rollin’ (67, we rollin’)
i got a three litre, it’s stolen
i know a young thot and she scoping
she gives the green light and we’re smokin’ (smokin’)
you ain’t been doing drills
you up in your house, you ain’t been in no fields (nah)
i’ve been making ps and i’ve been smoking beef and you talking about kaning and n-gga you k!lled (who you k!lled, son?)
you ain’t been on my hill
you up in your house, you ain’t been in no fields (nah)
putting work on the streets, we all over the beef, and you ain’t been on sh-t since your n-gga got k!lled (ugh!)

[verse 2: monkey]
67, add a four, got a couple skengs, need a couple more
(skengs, skengs)
in that trap house, got both for me, i might need some more (oh)
young n-gga getting it, tryna stack notes, f-ck being poor
(young rich n-gga)
been lurking on your estate like a f-cking tour (i been there)
posted up with them f-cking skengs (posted up)
disrespect me i’ll dip your friend (dipped)
skrr-skrr, back to the ends (skrr, skrr)
ot tryna get some bread (money)
bangin’ dons cause my n-ggas bled
opps run from me like i’m a black fed
dotty spin on the black ped, wizzin’ run tryna’ clap heads (skrr, skrr)
that dotty’s local
load it up, then go slap lead
don’t lack
broad day, yt turnin’ red
big mac, whoosh man down leave him on his bed (whoosh!)

[hook: dimzy]
about you in the field, you just in your crib, b-tch stop lying
we got smoky things and we smoking things, b-tch be frying (rahh, rahh)
i’m oj so f-ck o tray, b-tch be frying
about you trap rappers with your dead stack you ain’t got no clients
f-ck the opps we be on the a with anything that’s frying (boom, boom)
i’ll be in notre dame with them smoky things
you know corn’s be flying (boom, boom, boom)
you ain’t been near in your life, you trying to gas up the kids
(f-ck the opps)
and your baby momma be bopping, yeah, she can swallow them kids (she suck)

- lirik lagu 67

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