Grr, grr, gang, yeah
These niggas thought I forgot about all that creep shit you niggas was doing
All that fake and pillow talking to hoes and capping on the gram
OPD, free my creep up out that cell so I can creep his ass again
You talking Bout my slide around this block send 223s right through your tint
These niggas talk about killing who, man that shit ain't in your genes
Big ass 7-6-2-AR, I'll stuff that bitch inside my jeans
Bounce out this bitch like yurdda face, pop a nigga like a bean
I call my 45 crazy son, cause it like hearing niggas scream
I pop my door like, come here boy, where you going
Don't be running from this gun, last nigga tried to run they found his body in a pond
I'm in a kia with a killer, trying to send him past da sun
He ain't get up when he got hit, that's how I know that nigga done
Matter of a Fact get up close and blow his ass, boom, boom, boom, boom
He was tweaking, geeking on the net, so I had to come and show his ass
Spit on his body and leave him leaking, like a motherf*cking drain
The f*ck I look like take your money, I want your motherf*cking Brain
I catch that f*ck nigga A1, choke him with his f*cking chain
Yeah, everybody wanna be gangsta until their partner lose his brain
I don't give a f*ck about no hate, he think he safe inside his hood
That ain't shit to jump over that gate and get to Blowing with this K,
You ever felt one of them belts, I get to surfing in your hood
Dive in your shit like Michael Phelps, I slam on opps and get them knelt
I'm in a motherf*cking splat, I'm sending shells, ain't shooting gel
These niggas keep on saying my name, they must wanna see 1K in jail
He acting crazy, say he a demon, I'm trying to send him back to hell
I hit they block up with that blurrrrr, I got new jits like what the hell
So many shots the Drac burning, nigga I love that wood smell
Them Vamp came left your brudda stink, no that ain't no good smell
D4 be cabbing to his music, but he could tell a good tail
Yall Ain't shooting them guns, they getting older
Hop out they bitch and close his Folder
Oh shit, the beat over
Ha ha, murdaaaaaa, whaaa whaa
1kseeingred - FREE KREEP Lyrics
1kseeingred - FREE KREEP Lyrics
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Grr, grr, gang, yeah
These niggas thought I forgot about all that creep shit you niggas was doing
All that fake and pillow talking to hoes and capping on the gram
OPD, free my creep up out that cell so I can creep his ass again
You talking Bout my slide around this block send 223s right through your tint
These niggas talk about killing who, man that shit ain't in your genes
Big ass 7-6-2-AR, I'll stuff that bitch inside my jeans
Bounce out this bitch like yurdda face, pop a nigga like a bean
I call my 45 crazy son, cause it like hearing niggas scream
I pop my door like, come here boy, where you going
Don't be running from this gun, last nigga tried to run they found his body in a pond
I'm in a kia with a killer, trying to send him past da sun
He ain't get up when he got hit, that's how I know that nigga done
Matter of a Fact get up close and blow his ass, boom, boom, boom, boom
He was tweaking, geeking on the net, so I had to come and show his ass
Spit on his body and leave him leaking, like a motherf*cking drain
The f*ck I look like take your money, I want your motherf*cking Brain
I catch that f*ck nigga A1, choke him with his f*cking chain
Yeah, everybody wanna be gangsta until their partner lose his brain
I don't give a f*ck about no hate, he think he safe inside his hood
That ain't shit to jump over that gate and get to Blowing with this K,
You ever felt one of them belts, I get to surfing in your hood
Dive in your shit like Michael Phelps, I slam on opps and get them knelt
I'm in a motherf*cking splat, I'm sending shells, ain't shooting gel
These niggas keep on saying my name, they must wanna see 1K in jail
He acting crazy, say he a demon, I'm trying to send him back to hell
I hit they block up with that blurrrrr, I got new jits like what the hell
So many shots the Drac burning, nigga I love that wood smell
Them Vamp came left your brudda stink, no that ain't no good smell
D4 be cabbing to his music, but he could tell a good tail
Yall Ain't shooting them guns, they getting older
Hop out they bitch and close his Folder
Oh shit, the beat over
Ha ha, murdaaaaaa, whaaa whaa
These niggas thought I forgot about all that creep shit you niggas was doing
All that fake and pillow talking to hoes and capping on the gram
OPD, free my creep up out that cell so I can creep his ass again
You talking Bout my slide around this block send 223s right through your tint
These niggas talk about killing who, man that shit ain't in your genes
Big ass 7-6-2-AR, I'll stuff that bitch inside my jeans
Bounce out this bitch like yurdda face, pop a nigga like a bean
I call my 45 crazy son, cause it like hearing niggas scream
I pop my door like, come here boy, where you going
Don't be running from this gun, last nigga tried to run they found his body in a pond
I'm in a kia with a killer, trying to send him past da sun
He ain't get up when he got hit, that's how I know that nigga done
Matter of a Fact get up close and blow his ass, boom, boom, boom, boom
He was tweaking, geeking on the net, so I had to come and show his ass
Spit on his body and leave him leaking, like a motherf*cking drain
The f*ck I look like take your money, I want your motherf*cking Brain
I catch that f*ck nigga A1, choke him with his f*cking chain
Yeah, everybody wanna be gangsta until their partner lose his brain
I don't give a f*ck about no hate, he think he safe inside his hood
That ain't shit to jump over that gate and get to Blowing with this K,
You ever felt one of them belts, I get to surfing in your hood
Dive in your shit like Michael Phelps, I slam on opps and get them knelt
I'm in a motherf*cking splat, I'm sending shells, ain't shooting gel
These niggas keep on saying my name, they must wanna see 1K in jail
He acting crazy, say he a demon, I'm trying to send him back to hell
I hit they block up with that blurrrrr, I got new jits like what the hell
So many shots the Drac burning, nigga I love that wood smell
Them Vamp came left your brudda stink, no that ain't no good smell
D4 be cabbing to his music, but he could tell a good tail
Yall Ain't shooting them guns, they getting older
Hop out they bitch and close his Folder
Oh shit, the beat over
Ha ha, murdaaaaaa, whaaa whaa
Writer: Kenneth Darden jr
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid