
Creepin Lyrics
- Genre:Hip Hop & Rap
- Year of Release:2024
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