Demons ft. Jae Munnee Lyrics

Uh, Gang

Long Live Mar Long Live Dion Long Live Twan

Demon, demon

Come out with a Mac-10, don't come out past ten

The Mac-10, nigga don't come out past ten

Fonem pop out with a Mac-10

And the opps they don't be out it's past ten

Nigga died after chattin' what happened

Carry Glocks on our hip, we ain't scrappin

If you ain't rollin' woods, we ain't matchin

He was hard, now that nigga just Past tense

This ho Smoove as a bitch, Michael Jackson

Hit they block, tear it up, ain't no backspin

Fuck that, baby bro, I'ma spin back

Told him put the 10 mil where his wig at

Bitch, I been steppin', I know that they feel that

Extermination, my nigga, we kill rats

Oh, I heard that an opp lookin' for me

I'm still on the Vic like my nigga it been cap

Blow in this bitch, I don't care where his kids at

Fonem in mode, he forgot that he can rap

We dropped the whole hundred shells when we slid back

We putting belt right to ass where the kids at

I'm in my bag, tryna count up a mill bad

I'm from Ramsey, I used to have meal bags

Member' all through that bitch, I was trappin

Now I put OG in cribs, where the hills at

I know a couple of bitches who cappin' like they

Ain't The ones who know where all the pills at

we bananas, and ride with bananas

It's on you if you want that bitch peeled back

And all of my niggas is crazy

My shoot a vid where your homie got killed at

We gettin' money, they mad cause we still rap

His homie, Had died, mishap

Put niggas in trunks, kidnap

Don't even try, make some shit and it still slap

They don't smoke Za, OG

J Money, Shaq, Scoe, Kobe

Pop out that bitch, get to dumpin' like 4Deep

Mixin' the Migos with Wok, I might OD

Missin' my brother it hurt when he OD

And I miss it all, the old streets

Spin a hundred back blocks, just for Brody

Pop out that cut, we gon' blow, do it on three

Bitch it's the man with a plan for his whole team

I make it sound like a band, By my lonely

Countin' it up, by the band with my homies

No two for fifteen, you must think I'm the old me

Stroking her shit from the back, do it slowly

Switch in my hands, it was rainin' and pourin

Word around town that they wanna backdoor me

I see a four and I'm catchin' a four piece

When I talk, bitch, you better not ignore me

Give the Glock to my motherfuckin' shorty

Gang, slide on that block, At like 10 in the morning

Clutchin' real bad, tryna score, bitch, I'm horny

Spin, spin, spin, spin

Hit they ass with a four piece

She wanna fuck, but she cannot get more me

And when we in public, don't do no recordin

Uh, uh, come on, let's get it

Niggas be doin' that chattin' and dissin

But when he pop out, we put hoes in his fitted

Unload the Glock, hit the crib, then I switch it

Niggas be phony and fakin' and snitchin

Too much heat, it ain't come to that kitchen

We gotta get it, bitch, we on a mission

Uh, uh, I don't care about the ticket

Shorty called me, said he got him a lo

And I told him I'm finna pop out, let's switch it

Shorty fucked me, cause my money real long

And this swag is different, you niggas is bitches

All of these trips I done took on this road

We gettin' that pack and we stack it, and flip it

We come from the trenches

Don't do no talkin', J Money go blitz em

Shorty get active, he blow wit no whistle

40 keep blowin', you duckin' a missile

Oh, I'm that nigga, I want it, I get it

I pick you out, then I'm comin' to get you

Mamas is cryin', it's sad, need a tissue

Come to your door if you make it a issue

Gang