Piss Tana Off ft. Leeke Luciano Lyrics

Ayy, piss Montana off, piss Montana off, bitch, piss Montana off

You know how we do on this side, man, Cbg x 3lyfe, man

Long live all the got fuck the opps

Ayy, walking shit down, you know how we do it

Nigga, hollin' "it's beef", let's get straight to it

Come down the street, we gon' Swiss chesse the car

Two-two-three, hit the engine block, cut the car off

Bows in the trap, hurry up get them gone

No phones on the drill, leave them bitches at home

Talkin' crazy, that A.R.P. lower your tone

32 shots, call that boy Karl Malone

Glock 17 with a switch on the back, when I spray it, I'ma swing that bitch like a bat

Been poppin' my shit ever since I got money, they say I'm an asshole, I don't know how to act

Ayy, no remorse for you niggas, ain't showin' no pity, spin through they block, like Tasmanian devil

Why, come start with us, and you know we get busy, spin spin spin

Uh, full bags in the back and it's full of that loud

Don't come playin' at my show, we gon' switch down the crowd

Sbg steady trollin', but scared of that Drac'

Fuck a stone, I heard buddy got hit in the face

And the streets say, they waitin' on me for to drop again

Ain't been focused on music, I been tryin' to spin

And this five-six, a fully get hit with this lead

No number 2 pencil, get erased from existence, bitch,

I'm hot, them niggas know we get active

Why they thinkin' we cheatin', cause we steady head tap shit

We the ones puttin' packs, through the city, these niggas ain't havin' no motion to clientele

These niggas ain't gangsta, them niggas is bitches, you do somethin' to them, they gon' cry and tell

If you low on funds, go sell you a brick, you a grown-ass man, stop beggin' for help

Relax, catch your breath, type of nigga go step by myself

Tint out the windows, go change out the tag, if them folk get behind, then you know that we striking

Niggas thinkin' they Floyd, call my glock Mike Tyson, pop his take his life, I ain't doin' no fighting

Walking shit down, you know how we do it

Nigga, hollin' "it's beef", let's get straight to it

Come down the street, we gon' Swiss chesse the car

Two-two-three, hit the engine block, cut the car off

Bows in the trap, hurry up get them gone

No phones on the drill, leave them bitches at home

Talkin' crazy, that A.R.P. lower your tone

32 shots, call that boy Karl Malone

Thirty-three shots in my Glock, Scottie Pippen

Why beef with us boy, when you know we get busy

Mickey Mouse rat, man that boy signed to disney

We spin every night, until our ass get dizzy

Young turnt nigga havin' shit on me, I'm a type of nigga slap the shit out your big homie

Still post on the block with a big 40, flat back on it, you ain't know it was a switch on me

Yeah, bitch, this ten mil, knock off your dome

Got a switch on the Glock, when these bullets get to flyin' everywhere, bet you catch them like Julio Jones

Your ass ain't hard, lil' bro, boy, know the real you, we been knew your ass was a ho

Stop cappin' like you slidin' for the gang, when your ass got caught

Your ass got bucked for your pole

Say Tana, why these niggas tryna play like we won't get shit started

Ops playin', in this bitch we gon' beat their ass at the party

Cause they know we 10-deep, we the straps on us

And they know damn well we'll clap some

Opp, niggas, they be lyin', in them songs

Knowing goddamn, well they ain't headtap nothing

Walking shit down, you know how we do it

Nigga, hollin' "it's beef", let's get straight to it

Come down the street, we gon' Swiss chesse the car

Two-two-three, hit the engine block, cut the car off

Bows in the trap, hurry up get them gone

No phones on the drill, leave them bitches at home

Talkin' crazy, that A.R.P. lower your tone

32 shots, call that boy Karl Malone