Correction Lyrics Mobile Alabama Violent by HoneyKomb Brazy

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Lyrics

(Damn, Take, you 'bout to take off)
Brazy, Brazy
Like Mobile, Alabama violent
Motherf**kin' violent (Mobile, Alabama violent)
Home of murder and Mardi Gras (Murder and Mardi Gras, b*t*h-a** n***a)

Mobile, Alabama violent
Seem like McDonald only thing smilin'
Seem like the trap the only thing hirin'
Seem like them straps the only thing firin'
Keep a handgun, shot him somethin'
Heard it's a n***a tellin' 'bout it, 'bout it
I was gettin' phone calls from my partner
Said my lil' brother took a n***a chopper
You got the robbers tryna rob robbers
You got the whole city tryna finesse
You get your nose wiped tryna flex
All a n***a ever wanted was a check
Drop somethin', giraffe, step on they neck
No regrets, in his grill like some Crest
Hardbody, like I don't understand what you said
Boom, go talk to God 'bout it
F**k 'bout your dead partner
Yah, yah, that's why he dead and gone
He was a roach anyway
I mean in the way, that's why he got stepped on
I'm smokin' louder broccoli
I'm lightin' every time 'nother rat die
I just get high about it
I'm like why would I cry about it? Yeah
I'd rather re-up
But I'd rather ski up
I'm tryna snatch the plug out the socket
I never ran, I'd rather get beat up
I'd rather get beat up, that's how I'm rockin'
Roll me a tree up
Thinkin' 'bout all my n***as who left me like James Harden
Tryna take the faith out a n***a for real
Send 'bout an eight 'bout a n***a for real
Wendy, she walk
No, she didn't give up her seat, she remind me of Rosa Parks
My n***a, he fold
He broke the code
I swear to God that sh*t broke my heart
Lord, not my boy, Lord, don't 'posed to think on it
So look, I ain't finna think on it
Drop a bag on his a**, get the jakes off him
Quarter mil' online, that's the bank talkin'
Hello? J. Prince, man, the bank on you
Let 'em know you's official like a ref with a whistle
Up the glizzle, he ain't even gotta think on it
Get a n***a knocked off, then drink on it
I hopped on the track, just blank on it
They be like, "Bruh, every track
You screamin' black, black, black, black"
You know I just like to bang on it
And my city ain't safe, they'll bang on you
All black semiautomatic got stains on it
Trackhawk lifted, you can tell that it's a cane on it
EA in they feelings, so I ran into my game on 'em
F**k the strip club, I ain't tryna make it rain on 'em
Married to the kitchen, to the stove, put a ring on it
I'ma buy that house on the corner, tat my name on it
He was down bad, f**ked up, can't blame
Never 'posed to go against the grain
Feds slang the K like that b*t*h got swang, huh?
When two hit
Put that iron on your a** like school pants
I want blue money, R.I.P. Boo Man
All this blue money bringin' me new friends
But my old friends tellin' me f**k 'em
They gon' come back and hurt you a true sayin'
Soon as your a** try and trust 'em
Soon as your a** thought they love you
Boom, Brazy
Mobile, Alabama violent (Violent, Brazy)
Brazy
Mobile, Alabama violent

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