lirik lagu frank beats & glockboyz teejaee - guitar session 056
[intro: glockboyz teejaee]
yeah
real soldier, nigga
come on
yeah
[verse: glockboyz teejaee]
them gunshots was goin’ off, that’s how we went to sleep (that’s how we—)
nowadays, the hood hear them shots, they’d probably think it’s me (they’d probably think it’s me)
we four deep with four choppers in a black jeep
touched down with them killers like lebron when he was on the heat (yeah, yeah)
niggas play with us and die, you know how we steppin’ (you know how we—)
y’all niggas hangin’ with the cops like bookim and resting
i spent some money on this bitch, you feel the fabric on my sweater? (fabric on my swеater, nigga)
i was tryna fuck your bitch, you was tryna catch her
doin’ one fifty to thе e~way racin’ to that money (skrrt, skrrt)
you would think my niggas bang, these my blood brothers (these my blood brothers)
your niggas with the bag, plus them guns on us
bad bitches shakin’ ass, we got the ones comin’
i used to always want a bankroll
first time i seen a bag, i was geeked up like fabo
you ain’t never got no paper, you must hate the road
you must hate the pros (yeah)
you ain’t never got no bitches, you must hate the hoes
man, i wish they’d free my niggas out the feds
like my nigga 9k, that boy just put an opp to bed
took a bitch to pound town, but she ain’t look like sexyy red
i’m fuckin’ other niggas’ hoes until they free my nigga dev
pants saggin’ ’cause the ten milli’ is on me
and my left pocket full of all blues, that bitch loaded
the bankroll, it’s so fuckin’ big, i can’t fold it
told my young nigga he dropped a main opp, he get promoted (he get promoted)
i be runnin’ through them streets in every city that i go to
i pulled up to your hood and asked about you, they ain’t know you
she wanted to make some money with the kid, i told her send her social
she knew i was runnin’ off, i told you let me owe you (yeah)
let me grab some lean for my sprite
i get a room to fuck these hoes, but i still don’t spend the night
they just found my nigga guilty of a body, told his ass good night
you probably ain’t got no friends that sittin’ doin’ life (yeah)
i damn near made it out the slums, we still buyin’ guns
i’ll quit rappin’ and start trappin’, fuck this lil’ buzz
i treat my niggas like they blood, we used to share the crumbs
i spent my first hundred m’s that i touched, we fuckin’ up a dub (yeah, yeah)
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