Addressing Lyrics

Go wet they block up, we fin to quad the score

Don't do no talkin, I got b-licks ready to blow

I need that bag bitch, I need that money flow

I'm smoking good gas, got me up on that floor

Yeah, the beat got quiet, had to bring that bitch back in though

I feel like I got murder on my mind, but I'm not Melvin

I got that pack, I'm fin to mail it

And your Glock, just go sell it hell of shots, ain't no pellets

Walk him down, he not ready I got pounds, ain't no belly

Ain't talkin money, don't hit my cell

That shit you talking be irrelevant

And now a nigga got me bent I really might just have to vent

I wrap the car in , 5% I'm putting shells through your tent

I'm really scoring like the Knicks and I'm balling like a Piston

Don't got no bag, then I'm mad then a nigga get to blitzing

I got to track all the ops so when they walk out, I won't miss them

I tell him whistle, run him down broad day If that nigga got a issue

I been staying in my lane, nigga really don't fuck with you

Broad day, ain't shooting blanks imma walk down with that missile

I'm whipping it up, I be official popping a perc, a nigga be itching

I got the bag, no competition freestyle nigga, I don't need to write

And I got a Glock, why would I fight? I be in the back, high as a kite

Nigga don't want smoke? yeah, aight you been a bitch, go and hide

Nigga really got me fucked up put that pride to the side

That nigga used to be my main man but now he fin to die

And I don't got no sympathy for bum niggas fuck yo life

Niggas begging for some cash nigga, go and make it right

And I be really freestyling yo shit ass when you write

Might put that pole up in yo face and blow yo shit off tonight

But I don't even need it put the guns down and let's fight

Blue hundreds in my jeans and my chain shinning

Shinning motherfucking bright