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lirik lagu big mali - let loose freestyle

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[intro]
yo rittchie, hit that sh-t
ayy

[verse]
just a couple, f-ck a couple, b-tch i need the whole thing
hit a stain off the paint, brodie make the chopper sing
real b-tch, yeah i’m real, bosski make her pop pills
o-p-p, you gon’ squeal, it’s still beat the case appeal
opp b-tch, stop b-tch, i can get you popped b-tch
load it up and it’s tucked, f&n and glock b-tch
i can’t walk in the scene b-tch, without my mopstick
at the party loaded up in the parking lot b-tch
desert eagle, big body, we can make a n-gga fire
birkin bag, new whip, sleeves hangin’ out the side
all my nsb b-tches and you know that they gon’ ride
if you sour you should see me, put the toolies to his eye
that’s your son, f-ck your son, i had to make his mama cry
put a stack on his head, had to make the n-gga die
brand new sh-t, chop him up like a sweet potato pie
i’m a young boss b-tch and you know i stay fly, ayy
these n-ggas lookin’ for me, they know just like where i’m at
these b-tches broke as f-ck, yeah they only get a stack
it’s a stack on my head, b-tch that’s chump change
b-tch i put a whole fifty on your f-ckin’ brain
and now you scared b-tch, boots stomp you out
we gon’ shoot, i’m a fool with the tool
act up, it’s on you, aim it right and now you through
jordan whippin’ through my jewels
baddest b-tch in the school, ayy
suited up, timbs on, grimy ho
glock 17’s all around me ho
now i got the police at your mama door
cryin’ to her knees, droppin’ to the floor
sorry lil’ b-tch, i just shot your son ho
should’ve never borrowed money ’cause he f-ckin’ short me dough
gave his -ss a whole thing and he only saved a four
now he got a f-ckin’ bullet chillin’ in his f-ckin’ dome, ayy
hundreds, fifties, hundreds, if a hooker f-ck a break
i brought all my n-ggas with me and we faded off that stank
matter fact b-tch where my money? b-tch you broke, i’m gettin’ paid
‘fore i slide onto your block and put this ruger to your face
b-tch stop talkin’, you an opp, ho just stop, you a pop
extended clip, forty glock, now you lookin’ off the clock
b-tch don’t show me what’s about that money or you gettin’ rocked
’cause these b-tches keep a chop, and you know my sh-t is hot
and this two-two in my sock, just to make a n-gga drop
the same way i drop the top, when i’m pullin’ off the lot
sneak dissin’ get you mopped, run up on me, fifty shot
i ain’t never gave a f-ck, and it’s beef, f-ck an opp, b-tch


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