lirik lagu lil herb - kill shit
[intro: lil herb/(lil bibby)]
aye bibby, let’s kill sh-t broski. whatchu wanna do?
(it’s whatever man, just go on ahead and rip that sh-t
ima come around and clean that sh-t up)
lets get it
[verse 1: lil herb]
know a couple n-gg-s that’s down to ride for a homicide
when it’s drama time run up on a n-gg- with the llamas flyin
leave his loved ones all traumatized
one-fifty i’m really wit’ it, i’ll drop his -ss and then forget it
i’m the man round my side of town, might see a b-tch and forget i hit it
lil bibby on the track with me, one mistake and he clap fifty
when i hit the scene hoes go insane
cause they know a n-gg- got them racks wit’ me,
no velcro but the strap wit’ me let a n-gg- wanna act silly
i’mma let it off and then leave him there, ride off and don’t even care
b-tch i cash out ’till i p-ss out, got a couple trues i don’t even wear
in the game b-tch i do my thang, hoes scream my name i ain’t even there
lil herb boy i doos this, leave your b-tch wetter than a pool pit
and i make bands like i make friends, bought some ray-bans on some cool sh-t
but now it’s back to some killa sh-t, got some wild hoes that’ll drill a b-tch
yea it’s no limit, thirty years runnin’, thirty years gunnin’ and we still the sh-t
i never run cause i stay to fight, i’ll cook a n-gg- like steak and rice
and it’s h-lla real in the battlefield, g-ngb-ng gotta pay the price
hit a n-gg- with the forty fifth, bet it make his -ss do forty flips
m-o-b i don’t love a ho, ima be this way ’til i’m forty six
matter of fact ’til a n-gg- die, smoke kush blunts ’til a n-gg- cry
and i never feed off another man cause i understand how a n-gg- lie
never snitch on a n-gg- dry, yea that’s how a n-gg- die
got a young b-tch in the p-ssenger, she gon’ suck and f-ck if i get her high
if i do the dash then my whip will fly, foriegn sh-t what a n-gg- ride
i ain’t never sneezin’ let a n-gg- try, got the nine rutger on a n-gg- side
[verse 2: lil bibby]
lil bibby, no limit yea
i’m all about that sack b-tch, my young n-gg-s they clap sh-t
let the mac spit, we whack sh-t
weezy in that cut
with that nina that’s that black b-tch
rico wanna’ get ’em, i’m like cuz’ man i got this
shootin’ sh-t, hittin’ sh-t
four five extended clip
y’all be on that snitchin’ sh-t
and y’all know what snitches get, no limit sh-t, we wit’ the sh-ts, i’m focused on gettin’ rich
m-o-b forget a b-tch, right after i hit the b-tch
like point me to the kitchen b-tch, i be water-whippin’ sh-t
whip it, jeff gordon whip it
hit it wit’ the fork, straight drop no shorts
shooters on and off the court, shoot a n-gg- off his porch, turn a n-gg- to a corpse
yea i’m bout that, rollin’ up that loud pack
catch me lackin’? i doubt that, cause i never leave without that
and that’s real sh-t, got real hitters they kill sh-t
you f-ck around hit the kill switch, these hollow tips you feel this
and i’m tryna get real rich cause my mama said i wouldn’t be sh-t
n-body never gave me sh-t
like “bibby hop on this remix”
“that’s five hundred, no free sh-t”
cause i’m hot
and i do this sh-t for my block
i got thirty off in that glock, have my nina give you top
bodies gon’ drop and we ain’t gon’ stop
r-i-p roc, catch a few opps, send a few shots might hit a few blocks
f-ck a few thots
i need two mill, might seem like a lot but i spit straight drop
so its really not, my team gon’ eat, r-i-p to police
fake n-gg-s don’t speak, cop killers in the heat
catch me in the streets, shout out to broski
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