Man Down ft. SmokeCasino Lyrics

ARP do the job, he drop quick I got the mop and the stick in my pocket

Run up the racks, I don't do talking I'm on the block, his house, I'm watching

I ain't loving no ho, get the drop from a opp, bitch

Leave her on read, she say I be toxic AR-15, don't come with a stock clip

I'm finna blow him up like a rocket hit that boy up, get hit with a chop then

Nigga, don't jump in front of that hot shit I don't got a blade, the Glock in my pocket

Sit down, nigga, I know you ain't bout it All on IG, tryna clout chase, well, bitch

I'm keeping it silent, bitch

Aye, I got a chopper, I got a fully run down, nigga, I don't need a hoodie

I got me a Glock and it's finna bully and where your chain, nigga, got tooken

Pull up on me, let's get it cooking real nigga, but I know you a rookie

He got hit in the back, nigga, like ricky I got 20s and I got pink 50s

I'm stacking it up, I gotta get mine a nigga gonna blow in due time

I hop out the whip, not waiting in lines catch me a opp lacking through the blind

Push up with a drak, nigga, on my side and bullets connect like wifi

You don't want the smoke, nigga, be quiet we gonna shut him up, nigga, right now

Young nigga ready to shoot up the ride get up on these niggas, show him i'm bout it

Ready to take something, you know I got it he up a chopper, I bet he gonna drop it

Niggas so broke, they ain't got him no profit walking up creeping, you know that I'm stalking

I'm the type to catch him, outside walking get his face left it ain't make it to the coffin

Leave him dead, fuck around, throw him to the dolphins

Fuck the coppers, nigga, I ain't never talking if I ain't fucking with her, imma leave her walking

Tryna go run some shit down, steady hawking I don't even fuck with her till that bitch leave me alone

Niggas rats, tell him, get off the phone get a pack, flip it, I move, it's gone

He tryna get away, now imma catch him show these niggas, we ain't playing, we pressing

Taking more than what I wanted, I want extra nigga try to play round, nigga, get his head took

Look at the ground, you know we gonna leave it messy

Four shots come out the fire, take out his melon

Never rocking with these niggas, they don't get it

Jumping out, i'm on your street, tryna hit a fitted

Move around from these niggas, they real bitches

Move around from these niggas, they will snitch

Racks on me, imma count it to the ceiling jumping out the police, wondering who did it

Tryna get money, you know imma spend it

Tryna get money, you know imma spend it