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lirik lagu bleekboy doocy - his ass tried to run from the switch

[intro: bleekboy doocy]
(ayy, atl jacob!)
yeah… uh~huh
(his dumb ass tried to run… haha)
ayy, doocy! (bleekboy!)
switches out! brrrt!
we on allat! 67th type sh~t! let’s go!

[verse 1: bleekboy doocy]
his ass tried to run from the switch, got clipped (boom, boom!)
caught his dumb ass lackin’ on feet, now he stiff (ayy!)
whole lotta opps in the air, they zip (they gone!)
said he got back? nah b~tch, that’s a myth (cap!)
hit that boy chest, now his lungs on trip (skrrt!)
talkin’ that rah~rah, got his ass flipped (boom!)
i don’t do talkin’, i don’t throw fists
i just let glocks off — pfft! — with the switch (graah!)
spent four summers in that field, ain’t duckin’ no beef (h~ll naw!)
heard he dropped a diss, now his face on a tee (rip!)
he was tough in that song, now he dead in the street (p~ssy!)
and his mama at the church, cryin’ hard on the seat (b~tch!)
how you post yo’ blit on the ‘gram, then freeze? (how?!)
lil’ goofy tried run, got cooked with ease (boom!)
this ain’t fortnitе, i don’t build, i squeeze (haha!)
walked up calm, let it blow — say cheesе! (grrt! bow!)
[hook: bleekboy doocy]
(his ass tried to run from the switch, stupid!)
brrt, brrt — too late, got hit! (he dumb!)
glock with a beam, and the drum got a twitch!
catch his ass lackin’, i’ma air out the whip (boom, boom, boom!)
p~ssy ass boy, shoulda stayed off live!
he was yellin’ “gang,” now his mans can’t ride (brrt!)
we don’t shoot the legs, we just aim for the spine
his ass tried to run — he got hit tryna slide! (grahh!)

[verse 2: bleekboy doocy]
back on the block with the heater tucked (tucked!)
posted with demons that’ll eat sh~t up (yeah!)
don’t talk beef if you sweet as f~ck (naw!)
you ain’t slid back? then you weak as f~ck! (lame!)
i was 11 lettin’ rugers bust (on god!)
now i got 30s in designer cuffs (pew~pew!)
.223s make a grown man hush
talkin’ that sh~t, now his homies crushed (gone!)
hit that boy whip — whole car got flipped (b~tch!)
now the news talkin’ ’bout “that’s so tragic” (haha!)
b~tch, we laughin’, we ain’t sad at all (we up!)
another one down — now who next to fall? (who?)
seen that boy legs just lock, he crawl (d~mn!)
we chase sh~t down, no, we don’t just stall
he got caught at the mall, now his blood on the wall
tried to run, got cooked like fish filet raw! (grrrah!)
[hook: bleekboy doocy]
(his ass tried to run from the switch, stupid!)
brrt, brrt — too late, got hit! (boom!)
glock with a beam, and the drum got a twitch!
catch his ass lackin’, i’ma air out the whip (brrt, brrt, boom!)
p~ssy ass boy, shoulda stayed off live!
he was yellin’ “gang,” now his mans can’t ride
we don’t shoot the legs, we just aim for the spine
his ass tried to run — he got hit tryna slide!

[verse 3: bleekboy doocy]
i got racks in the safe and a chop on the dresser
he tryna diss, but i’m way too pressure (too hard!)
why you tryna tweet when your gang got lesser?
y’all keep dyin’, we just get fresher (steppin’!)
i don’t rap for fame, i rap for pain
all these lames, get stained for name (boom!)
he thought he slid, got left in vain
mama like, “god, why they blow his brain?” (grahh!)
i’m in that north with a glock and mask
still yellin’ “f~ck all them opps from the past!”
if i see bro’s name, i’m on yo’ ass
switch go brrt! — it don’t shoot slow blasts (rrah!)
goof tried run — he tripped on grass
now he lay stiff with his jeans half~slacked
thought he was quick, but the shots move fast
ain’t no outrunnin’ when the 30 go blatt! (boom, boom, boom!)
[final hook: bleekboy doocy]
(his ass tried to run from the switch, goofy!)
brrt, brrt — now his soul got flipped!
now he floatin’, lookin’ like a glitch!
blew out his back — can’t even stitch! (h~ll naw!)
b~tch got hit tryna post up live
laughin’ at brodie — now yo’ mans can’t ride
we up on the score, y’all down like five
his ass tried to run — he ain’t make it alive (boom!)

[outro: bleekboy doocy]
bleekboy doocy… this my first one
all that gang sh~t, we not playin’ no mo’
you diss, you die — facts
tryna run? pfft — not with a switch on it, b~tch
(y’all know what the f~ck goin’ on… otf, 67th sh~t, doocy out.)

- lirik lagu bleekboy doocy

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