Creepin Lyrics

Niggas know

Them L.M.Gs, them L.M.Gs, them L.M.Gs

40 gang, 40 gang, 40 gang

Yeah, uh, real pain I lost some friends and I can't get them back

Show no remorse up on them drills we tryna make a pack

Talking bout the opps I heard that rat got shot all in his back

They caught the baby, did him bad, they hit him in his chest,

Creeping.. Late night, we tryna catch a vic, get up close

Paint him and, don't stop until you hear that click

That nigga went out like King Von , he tryna throw a fist

Brody got that 23 and it's Kobe filled inside that stick

Turn you ghost this shit get bloody, I'm a big rapper

You know me, I'm all about that money, Round the city bippin

Baby killer stepping like He Chucky, catch a opp, Stand Ova Him

We do that shit for Lil' Sonny

I ain't gon' lie, I be on that, I ain't pumpin

They approach me, stood on 10, you know Lil Neph Dont do the runnin

Spot em' shoot from trey , zoe was tryna hit his pumpkin

Bitch, we really on that court, & we tryna really score a bucket

I could walk inside this bitch and I feel safe, bro, Got his fire tucked

Shake my dreads, they know it's Neph, like, what nigga gon' try something

Bitches shaking ass, that shit so fat, might get behind one

They say you got the ball, it's time to lock in, cause your time comin

You can't run from who? , Spoke on Sonny, so it's personal

You better tie your shoes, stand on top and let him have it

We ain't binging out the roof, we like to come from different ways

And hit your brain and make cahoots , Go

Uh Catch him Lackin, yeah, boy, I feel like Flavor Flav

That shit crazy, they took my brother out that motherfuckin' game

I'm tryna shit on my opps and pop out trim with big-ass chains

Free the guys, this shit run deep, we tryna slide for all this pain

Y'all ain't active in the field, y'all only bend blocks' in yall raps

Caught that nigga, brodie screamin', Go He came back with a hat,

Trappin' out the Za We got what you need, don't call for plat

He was speakin' to the cops and now he all up in my pack

Its This one opp grave Fucked up, like, fix yall homie, headstone

Lil' Rizz put me in the song, that nigga know he dead wrong

All that trollin', you be the first to go, like, now you dead and gone

You ain't no gang to me, can't hang with me now, I'ma switch my flow

Uh Bro, just got that milly, you know that 10 his favorite gun

And we got them 40s, bitch, we tryna have some fun

How you drop the burner, blickin', then go try to run

And this shit for Lil' Mir so all we know is red rum

And its, fuck the opps, I play they block more than my own strip

Steady typin', with no burner, boy, go get your own glick

I was damn bad needin' money, so I feel my own lick

And I step behind Lil' Mir so on they graves, we gon' piss

Uh-huh, They took my homie, I'ma chase a opp before I chase a thot

Like I said before, lil' nigga, go ahead, fuckin' drop a dot

We be spinnin' for retaliation, blickin', never stop

Hit his face, run off, hop back in, I'ma do my fuckin' bop

I'm with the bros where the bitches, where the hoes at

Nigga, you don't even got no hot, where your pole at

Lookin' for the opps, like, where the fuck you Lo's at?'

Got inside the jam and told it all, you's a cold rat

We drop a R for every opp, we drop a R for every opp

Them LMGs, them LMGs, go, go

Them LMGs, them LMGs, 40 gang

We hop out cuts and, do shit bad nigga

Go, go, go, go

Go, go, go, go