lirik lagu jaziah! - allstar weekend
and i’m with the whole f~ckin’ gang, n~gga
the whole mob
got my grillz in this motherf~ker still
five n~ggas ran up shh
left out with two birdies
i don’t wanna talk to n~ggas, step a lil harder
cut off the lights, im grabbin’ the 30
i’m with my twin, i’m with my slime
he runnin’ up, they gettin’ buried
b~tches on me, gucci my waist
thought it was sweet, leavin’ em dirty
p~ssy, run up on me, we gon’ crack that b~tch
i can’t f~ck that hoe, that’s on my life
if she on ratchet sh~t
n~gga talkin’, he gon’ hit his fye
i’m not no rapper, b~tch
all my n~ggas get bread, yeah
i’m really on some trappin’ sh~t
n~gga, you say you really gon’ trap what
yeah, my n~ggas, we stay with some shooters like vince
i stay with them raptors
my n~gga, i’m ready to stay with them coolers
i make them in backwoods
all these n~ggas really seein’ is zero and ones
it’s like they a hacker
ten bands from a check, i f~cked up chase
we put 20 in his name f~cked up his bank
tryna cross me, boy, you funny
know my shooter came with dracs
euro stepping like ginóbili
or like harden in the paint
i don’t pop, i need a case
outta wok, i need my drank
double cuppin’, missin’ members
miss my brothers, that was slain
n~ggas know i’m from the d
but i flew out to the a
say you sippin’, but you only pouring one
get out my face
lil’ shine
these b~tches askin’ about my day
she ain’t my bae, hold up
i’m with them rr steppers, lil brax bought a k
hold up
just bought some subi jeans
tryna fill them up with cake
hold up
my brothers just walked in
with a pint of lean, told em pour up
yeah, i dont with you hoes, she tore up
yeah, my brother gon’ spin till he throw up
yeah, these lil’ b~tches gon’ bend till i pull out
yeah, i bust her down in the trap house
yeah, she lookin’ good in red
yeah, she lookin’ s~xy with two y’s
pull up in sp~ce, she get ooh~ah
trap
trap
stay on, stay on ten
got a bad lil’ hoe in the jeep
tryna f~ck her on me
tryna f~ck my friends
slide on that boy in a benz
we just might hit that lil boy we might shoot at his kin
slatt
i don’t even know that b~tch
but she keep asking for my pants
pull up on that boy
in a black op jeep, we hit his f~ckin’ team
i’m sorry, girl, yeah, i keep sippin
all this f~ckin’ lean
open up my phone to see the money
i might sell my fiends
that’s your lil’ b~tch, i hit her once
and then i left on seen
cause i don’t need no b~tch
i need my racks, i need my swag
she wanna f~ck, i told her
come on, b~tch, go f~ck up in my jag
g6 in my pocket with the beam
b.b. belt still gon’ sag
i just smoke my gas
with your b~tch up in the crib, won’t last
super high, i face the past
she won’t f~ck, i face her ass
d~mn, that hoe, she bad
but i can’t buy her ass no louis bag
i got a side hoe, maybe a mistress
maybe a main b~tch, maybe a wife
gunnin’ him down and digging him up
shoot him again, we gon’ k!ll that boy twice
how many bodies you got
what n~ggas you shot
my n~gga, i cannot remember
how many b~tches you hit
and hoes you done ran
it’s gettin’ too hot like september
i’m cold like december
we no pretenders
my n~ggas steppin’, i hope you remember
who the f~ck is them n~ggas
baby the gang
i swear we can’t miss
it feel like god sent us
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