On Feet ft. Lil Perc, Dahzee & SkinnyLoc Lyrics

I just told my nigga, Perkz, I need to put these joes down, man

But I ain't trippin, though. Believe that

If it's murder talk, then this shit ain't nothin

Got a ticket to hell if he play with the cops

Niggas runnin, but we keep him in reels

That's an eye for an eye till we all can't see

Flight to the plug, we leavin' with ease

We came out with thugs and new VVs

Niggas feel like thugs, them slimes for me

We the same thing. Better watch your back, cause them boys on fleek

When they come that west, they gon' jump on feet

Yeah, like that, let it go, make a scene

Big four-zero, all black, no fame

I'm callin' them plates, so I get us a ring

Come get you a plate in the room on the 10

When I nut in the face, rub it in like cream

Nah, but you can't stay, take it slow like lean

I'm in the field with the steel, and y'all know I got my vest on

Let our rhymes on them, tell that bitch come catch us

Go to the lab, cook it up like that stuff

Yeah, like that, good dope, nothin' wrong with it

Tell me how it's workin' when your man white flags you

Say you hatin' on him, and I see it sadly

We bout to hoe, we gon' fuck her, then dash her

We could've throw if it's too much nagging

Cause I don't want boss, everybody else crashing

Make him go to his vault if we kidnap his daddy

Lie down, bitch, nigga, tell me where your son at

Nobody move to the heat, get accomplished

I don't want you and everybody that you run with

Your dude make the news, they gon' know it was London

Bitch, these niggas sweet

I cop my loon, and let them off the leash

Leave they pockets squeak, they know it's B

We do no retreat, we smoke in Florida trees

And bam, I'm paying lawyer fees

They know it's beef

Come through with Drake, and I'm sweeping the streets

200 in program, McGee

Fast shit, hit it and beat

I'm still in the streets

All of my mirrors, it's unreleased

Man with a switch, he shoot on repeat

I pop it with mad, like it's trick or treat

Pull up in Jeep, don't shoot out the car

We hop out on feet, I hop out on toes

I give a dick, and you give her a road

I'm tryna dono the roads

Three Ps in the car, meat, purse

And it's a stick with a pole

Getting too high, I can't quit smoking Joe's

On the plug and 200 bolts

I'm tryna get back and get 200 sold

Had to hustle for this, now they call me the man

I was my own, scrapped the plans

Too many losses, but that shit had made me a man

I'm Mr. Trish with design

Then I'ma call it big ho, and I'm beating the bitch over

N.I.G. gang, nine times out of ten

If you see one of us, then you know we ain't sold

Riding it straight, blow the motor

Gotta get it every day, cuz it never got me the quota

Feel like I'm an O2 at Sosa

I'm off a perk, and my bitch getting full of mimosa

I drop the phone and soda

Chilling with some white hoes, so I gotta keep the shit kosher

Know I gotta stay with the toaster

I'm on the block every day

Trap pops, stay posted

I ain't never ever scheming

Lonely my nigga

I'm bussing these bands out the maze

Six figures

Nigga, this on the nine

How D-Lo come get you

Slide in the Skaggs and stole it

If I catch a bro, I'ma take off he Rollie

I ain't beefing with no niggas, they already old

Look at that family, they trapped as a troll

Had to start a big bank in the city

I'm Goldie

I'm Goldie