FAMILY ft. Dooley Ridah, MoneyMan Lo, Diallo Ve, 296 Taye & CMF Rude Lyrics

So many ball heads in this Glock, it look like Mr. Clean

You know this Glock dirty, but my paperwork clean

Before you slide, check the gas, that's the first thing

Cause you ain't tryna run out of gas on the opps train

It's a must that all the niggas down on Woods stay on foot

I only fuck a bitch who take shit cause they some bullies

Put a bitch on a nigga that love trippin, no a pussy

All my niggas sees events, so I ain't sittin' on no rookies, boy

This the street right here, slow down, head up, hit the lights

I told P don't wear them chains, now all they see is ice

If it's war, I get locked in and keep them choppers loaded

A hundred rounds, I have a clown, stop droppin, rollin

I guess these niggas really think it's shit sweet

I know some niggas shoot from deep like the Miami Heat

They just pull up and drop some shit on anybody's street

For the bread, I leave them dead, that's how you handle bigger

We siding on any opp who ever try to test

We ride, all my niggas shoot off the SS

Stop hiding, bitch, we hit our target, we don't miss

Keep driving, fully loaded, empty every clip

Start dying, go against the game, we ain't no shit

Stop lying, we be moving swift, super quick

Stay silent, don't speak on no lick, we on no shit

Keep silent, don't speak on no lick, we on no shit

Be real rider, shooter and a driver

Treat the opps like some Jays, release, you know I got them

Treat these bitches like a classic, a priest, you know I box them

What's hanging out the side of my jeans? This bitch a Glockie

The switch on this blick bring fire like a big one

Fuck, you got a high point, it's lockin' like a pistol

If I shoot and I miss, slot machine in this bitch, risk it all

Keep pullin' till I hit right

Let that pussy nigga live, I ain't really got tired of ballin' on him

But when he slip, I'ma slide with carpets and target on him

White castle, burger-ass nigga, itty-bitty beef

Ain't even dangerous, nigga, cinnamon sugar sweet

Always cappin' bout what he finna be, but he really finna be ghost

And I'ma put L.O.L. under all his R.I.P. posts

Boy, you be doin' the most, with his BM told me this

He shrugged my dick down and I thought, fuck you mean

You know you niggas talkin' bout, we know you ain't on shit

Not too much about that bitch who cuff him, boy, she be on dick

Niggas sick, I don't leave the crib without my blick

Fully loaded with a switch, press that button, I won't miss

Look at this, diamonds on my neck, that bullet G

You a bitch, drop that fuckin' dish, you won't exist

Send a blitz, make them boys scramble, call it eggs and grits

Niggas callin, coppin' pleas, man, that shit don't make no sense

You niggas broke, I guess y'all boy's pockets paralyzed

Make a poor body, niggas know who really certified

I just fucked a model bitch, she was even verified

I just did the Noah Mears off a pair of Jordan 5s

Black whip, heavy tinted, tell them niggas I'm out of business

All the hoes, let me hit it, cause they know a nigga get it

Cause I got it, I can have this bitch for a ride

And all you hear is loud pipes when a nigga out here ride, gang