It was me & Money stacks behind that wall screaming one four G'z
Me & Izzy cheese up in this bitch
Tryna pop a Bean
You put that G30 in my hands on my momma gon' squeeze
I'm boppin any Load, I see what out of plate states on me
Lil' Chuck, get to fiendin' with
That Glock, he gon' pop for me, We touch bands off Rollies and APs, my niggas so sleaze
I swear to God, I'm crashing out on chinks for a patek Philippe
I love that 27 on my, my mama it's killin' for me
Blitz game, GBG for that bag, it's just gettin' to me
Man kid behind that wall, I might sign him for them f*ckin' Gs
Lil' bro, report card he still fiendin' for them A's and B's
Two hands on that drill, 30 seconds, that button too clean
I'm givin' niggas head taps, be cool, pushin' up on me
I spent on drip I could've bought a Benz, nigga, maybe three
I said free baby core up in JP, givin niggas T's
I f*ck with my four-two, lil' TBO, and fast-gass team
Told me you had my back, but you still turned your back on me, That's why you see me to the neck, cause friends turn phony Youngin said he wasn't with the shit, they still froze homie
Lookin' at this whip, clutchin' on my stick, cause I don't know, Brody
Murder, investigations, and pistol cases, the law's on me
And they got a confidential
Informant that say I got it on me, That's why I can't function with these niggas, they'll tattle on me, Spank a nigga with the wooden K put that paddle on him
Aye the Niggas that I f*ck with, parolees, and they got trophies
Brody thought he was Michael Phelps, we drowned him in the ocean
Gio told me, hit a nigga with a sack, he wide open
Bitch, you know I keep the weapon well-protected like a Trojan
When we did that one skit your mans turned into a spokesman
On the gram, trollin', Saying he want the smoke
We left him smokin'
When we slidin', keep the doe cracked in case we catch an opponent
All you hear is tires screech, choppers clap, pistols blowin
Big Sm4ckz - Insecure 16 (feat. Dna.gio) Lyrics
Big Sm4ckz - Insecure 16 (feat. Dna.gio) Lyrics
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It was me & Money stacks behind that wall screaming one four G'z
Me & Izzy cheese up in this bitch
Tryna pop a Bean
You put that G30 in my hands on my momma gon' squeeze
I'm boppin any Load, I see what out of plate states on me
Lil' Chuck, get to fiendin' with
That Glock, he gon' pop for me, We touch bands off Rollies and APs, my niggas so sleaze
I swear to God, I'm crashing out on chinks for a patek Philippe
I love that 27 on my, my mama it's killin' for me
Blitz game, GBG for that bag, it's just gettin' to me
Man kid behind that wall, I might sign him for them f*ckin' Gs
Lil' bro, report card he still fiendin' for them A's and B's
Two hands on that drill, 30 seconds, that button too clean
I'm givin' niggas head taps, be cool, pushin' up on me
I spent on drip I could've bought a Benz, nigga, maybe three
I said free baby core up in JP, givin niggas T's
I f*ck with my four-two, lil' TBO, and fast-gass team
Told me you had my back, but you still turned your back on me, That's why you see me to the neck, cause friends turn phony Youngin said he wasn't with the shit, they still froze homie
Lookin' at this whip, clutchin' on my stick, cause I don't know, Brody
Murder, investigations, and pistol cases, the law's on me
And they got a confidential
Informant that say I got it on me, That's why I can't function with these niggas, they'll tattle on me, Spank a nigga with the wooden K put that paddle on him
Aye the Niggas that I f*ck with, parolees, and they got trophies
Brody thought he was Michael Phelps, we drowned him in the ocean
Gio told me, hit a nigga with a sack, he wide open
Bitch, you know I keep the weapon well-protected like a Trojan
When we did that one skit your mans turned into a spokesman
On the gram, trollin', Saying he want the smoke
We left him smokin'
When we slidin', keep the doe cracked in case we catch an opponent
All you hear is tires screech, choppers clap, pistols blowin
Me & Izzy cheese up in this bitch
Tryna pop a Bean
You put that G30 in my hands on my momma gon' squeeze
I'm boppin any Load, I see what out of plate states on me
Lil' Chuck, get to fiendin' with
That Glock, he gon' pop for me, We touch bands off Rollies and APs, my niggas so sleaze
I swear to God, I'm crashing out on chinks for a patek Philippe
I love that 27 on my, my mama it's killin' for me
Blitz game, GBG for that bag, it's just gettin' to me
Man kid behind that wall, I might sign him for them f*ckin' Gs
Lil' bro, report card he still fiendin' for them A's and B's
Two hands on that drill, 30 seconds, that button too clean
I'm givin' niggas head taps, be cool, pushin' up on me
I spent on drip I could've bought a Benz, nigga, maybe three
I said free baby core up in JP, givin niggas T's
I f*ck with my four-two, lil' TBO, and fast-gass team
Told me you had my back, but you still turned your back on me, That's why you see me to the neck, cause friends turn phony Youngin said he wasn't with the shit, they still froze homie
Lookin' at this whip, clutchin' on my stick, cause I don't know, Brody
Murder, investigations, and pistol cases, the law's on me
And they got a confidential
Informant that say I got it on me, That's why I can't function with these niggas, they'll tattle on me, Spank a nigga with the wooden K put that paddle on him
Aye the Niggas that I f*ck with, parolees, and they got trophies
Brody thought he was Michael Phelps, we drowned him in the ocean
Gio told me, hit a nigga with a sack, he wide open
Bitch, you know I keep the weapon well-protected like a Trojan
When we did that one skit your mans turned into a spokesman
On the gram, trollin', Saying he want the smoke
We left him smokin'
When we slidin', keep the doe cracked in case we catch an opponent
All you hear is tires screech, choppers clap, pistols blowin
Writer: Shaun Roberson
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid