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lirik lagu number foe - dixie2south

[intro]
ten~three what you doin’?

[verse 1: number foe]
n~gga playin’ on the book and i flushed him
in traffic with drac’, now, i watch folks suffer (i can’t)
can’t do a show in my city, you pluckin’
i’m fresh as a motherf~cker with a b~tton (grrah)
hit this b~tch and i’m watchin’ folks clear
gotta shoot with precision like steph for a game point (lean)
you ain’t got you no body? better go get you one
hit the drac’ and i’m screamin’ “free hundred somethin'”
number foe really givin’ out head taps
nowhere i ain’t goin’, we can just google map (let’s go)
‘nother bow hit they neck, think i’m buyin’ out
servin’ my daddy ounces, i’m the man, now (i’m the man)
i pull up and i’m flexin’ with dog sh~t
smokin’ somethin’ stanky that’s louder than dog p~ss (10k)
my n~gga still tender ’bout his buddy
on crip, that’s the only time i seen my dawg switch (switch team)

[verse 2: tayg]
the sh~t that i do ain’t for rookies
you try to run off and get caught and then bullied (tayg for real)
yeah up the chopper with switches
that fully no good
not at home? i’ll peer out your bushes (i’ll, i’ll peer out your bushes)
chasin’ sh~t down in all black and a hoodie
know you a b~tch and the proof in the pudding (proof in the—)
gone with the move, it’s a slimey lil’ free (yeah)
throw a flag in the play and them folks gon’ book me
[verse 3: number foe]
7.62 and i dump at your car (grrah, grrah)
you lookin’ too hard that ain’t gettin’ you far
sippin’ regetta, sh~t makin’ me fart
i forward that sh~t and i still ain’t nod
stay by your window, i’m crankin’ them cars
i fool with the pass, won’t see it tomorrow (let’s do it)
slide down your block with them fully ar’s and burn that b~tch up, then it’s back to the block (get here)

[verse 4: tayg]
the b~tch just said i’m state to state constantly eatin’ chicken tenders
f~ck it
pop it
get up in my mode and order salmon dinners (i want a entree)
b~tch talkin’ ’bout she see the good in g, sh~t i came out of scene (guess i was born today)
the lifestyle we got lit
fay grate wasn’t flawless
neck buss down in emeralds (ayy)
got the game up in a master lock
hide the squeeze out of pickles (that i got out the jam)
don’t try sh~t at no show, b~tch, you gon’ die tryna get clout for insta’ (b~tch, you gon’ die for real)
freak the b~tch out mackin’ with my words (yep)
the ho gave me her finsta (all out for me)
chargin’ for my verses
leveled up, used to f~ck hoes for rentals (used to knock hoes for cars)

- lirik lagu number foe

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