Ransom Freestyle Lyrics

First thing first, it's long live Ransom

(Uh huh, uh)

Fuck from the front and she saying I'm handsome

Nigga get mad, and my crodie gon' splash some

(Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah)

My crodie gon' splash some

She do the most for the camera

Lil black, lil white, call her a panda

Short day, long night, call him a trapper

Call him a capper

He ain't a scammer, just call him a rapper

Give me some sugar, she take off the wrapper

Go mod on the beat, like my name is Parappa the rapper

My crodie a trapper

My other homie, he gon' sit on your block like a camper

Get her a pamper

That pussy so wet, your bitch dry like a grandma

She look at my watch, she ain't checking the hour

If you live by your hammer, you die by your hammer

Got a new ticket, they caught me on camera

Free up my bro, cause he cropped my camera

Talk on my homie, that's fight you don't pick

Talkin' 'bout homie, you toting a stick

Talkin' 'bout homie, he got a GG with a dick

And, who gon' live, don't be last pick

Like, long live Jayy and free my clique

Like, canteen full, don't need no shiv

Like, clip too full, don't need no switch

It's like a movie, crodie pitch, pitch, pitch, pitch, pitch

If I call up Deego, he fuckin' your bitch

If I call up ssh, he gon' shoot up your crib, huh

Like, how could we miss

Back in high school, you was really the shit

Back in high school, I was skipping to finger ya' bitch, uh

And I'ma diss

Dissing me back, you gon' swim in the fish

Boy from the boonie's, his life was just mid, uh

Nigga, you really my kid

I can never accept that she turned into a bitch

(Uh, uh, uh, uh)

You said you got money, so why are you duckin'

Call up your bitch and I'm gettin' her fuckin'

Call up my homie his GG get bussin'

Call up my crodie, my wodie, my homie, and all of a sudden, you turn into nothin'

Thought I was out of my luck, and

Got me a pack and the numbers start bumpin'

She lick for an hour, she mad I ain't bussin'

That boy a bowaz, he eating the butt, and

We up to somethin'

See Double M's, and you know that they cuttin'

Know that they runnin'

(Uh, uh)

We was on the block, If you ain't pushin' rock, go make a wop

He caught a box like Chris Rock

He a cop, movin' chopped

Seen the undie make a stop

Hit the gas

Taking off

All that ass

Take it off

Shake that shit, then make it drop

Ass so fake, this shit might pop

I come from killers, meet my pops

I live for Jayy, you live for bitches

Diamond pearls, we should have riches

Like, where my brodie go? Where my crodie go

Cordie got that 40 on him

Might sip this 40, sip 40 more

Like how you wife her that bitch a hoe

(Ha)

Guess she good to go