Correction Lyrics Off Beat by Eli Fross

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Lyrics

[Intro]
Grrrt
Look

[Verse 1]
My niggas pull up on dummy shit
I be riding round with them killers (Grrah, grrah, grrah, grrah, grrah) that be shooting on some other shit
You know they feel my presence, nigga, when I pull up, good luck
Talk crazy, you'll get ya hood touched (Haha)
And I don't give a fuck about a nigga, I been getting bread
Until a nigga start talking crazy, put it on his head (Bah)
You little fuck nigga
Yeah, you better duck nigga (Baow, baow, baow, baow, baow) 'cause when I put them lions on ya ass, then it's lunch nigga
Lunch time, crunch time, yeah, you better run boy
I'll have them boys come run you down just for fun boy (Gang, gang)
Put that red beam on ya head, now you done, boy (Gang, gang)
That internet beef shit is wack, get ya gun, boy (Gang, gang, gang)
Bitch said she like my Cuban link (What?)
Told her, "Link up" and took her to Cuba to fuck her cheeks up (That's right)
Little mommy, shorty freaked up (What?)
We was fucking all night, top floor, maid had cleaned up (Ha)
But I regret I went to meet her (Huh?)
'Cause after swimming in that pussy, I really wanted to breed her (Huh)
Big Blood, pockets C'd up (What?)
With bloods with Crips, either way still gon' see Blood (Blatt)

[Verse 2]
Hold on, let me see some'
And that's the sound that bitch make
She carrying the bakery, she got that big cake and if she said she on her period, I nut on her face
And yeah, I nut on her face, because she like that freak shit
When I be tryna leave the crib, she tryna fight me and shit
Over here talking 'bout she really like me and shit
Bitch, you only call me when your man acting like a dick (Ha)
Got these jewels on, riding 'round, posted with a stick
If you hear me yell, I got one, then niggas know it's lit
You a pussy, boy, you not tuff, you ducking with your clique
On the internet he act hard, he tweetin', talkin shit
Where your crew at? (Uh)
Where your boo at? (Uh)
'Cause either way, boy, I'ma catch you and I'm gon' do that (Uh)
Yeah, brodie shoot that (What?)
And he ain't shoot back (Baow)
Yeah, you gon' end up where the last other dude at (Ha)
You know we Glocked up, chopped up, you not tuff, stop It
I'll send ya ass high up to them stars with this rocket (Bow, baow)
I'll have them sharks come at ya jaw, then we pop it
Drop it (Baow), that's for ya getting outta pocket (Gang)

[Outro]
Haha, haha
Free that bitch

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