Correction Lyrics On A Tee (Extended Version) by Icewear Vezzo

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Lyrics

(Thanks, Yakree)
F**k n***a, back the f**k up
(T this b*t*h up, Tone)

Slide through the bity, nobody out, tryna put a b*t*h on a tee (Ayy)
Face shot, gang in my city wanna terrorize the streets (Go)
Big-a** bullets take down Suburbans and they'll flip a Jeep
No more hot cars, I got it rented for the whole week (Whole week)

What's that in the air? Smell like bap, that sh*t there cheap as hell
Can't wait to catch that rappin'-a** n***a, I'm tryna send my shooter there
Go, dead— yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Dead n***a
When I tweak out, yeah, his head bigger
Tryna score for two, but they hit for four, f**k one of them main n***as
Or I just call lil' Moe, put some chains on your brain, n***a
Two n***as, they got shh by a Ruger by the same n***a
Okay, I'm on that car right there, we switchin' lanes, get him
This a leaky blunt, I don't think big Meechie can fit in there
I'm the party starter, get the party started, I'm like, "Yeah"

Slide through the bity, nobody out, tryna put a b*t*h on a tee
Face shot, gang in my city wanna terrorize the streets
Big-a** bullets take down Suburbans and they'll flip a Jeep
No more hot cars, I got it rented for the whole week
Hmm, yeah, b*t*h, I get to tweakin' out
Pop a bean, caught them boys lackin' when they was eatin' out
Fifty bands stuffed in my 'Miris, we brought them demons out
Send your pu**y a** to the sky so he can see the clouds
Ayy, b*t*h, I ain't got no sense
Little switchy on that FN look like a phone chip
Do the opps like back in the day, them n***as '06
Why you think we shoot hundred rounds? Because we don't miss
Black Dior shades on my eyes because I lean a lot
Need to quit that syrup right now, it make me pee a lot
F**k around and rob my plug— mm
I mean, I'll rob my plug for like half 'cause I ain't need a lot
We don't measure drank when we sippin', yeah, we just pour the numbers (Pour it)
Got a dog house in Atlanta, do Robert Horry numbers
Finna cut new Cullinan on Forgis, yeah, that's before the summer (Forgis)
Turn that chopper up like a Hemi, I'm tryna motor something
Hmm, ooh, these n***as real rappers
I make music and I drop sh*t, guess I'm a drill rapper
Shoot that glizzy, then clean it off, I got some real manners
Couple million sittin' in the safe, look like a steel cabinet

Hold on, glick in my palm, get to shootin' this b*t*h (Shootin' this b*t*h)
Palm Angels all on my a**, Louis on my kicks (All on my a**)
Baby, I'm the don (I'm the don)
We like murder sh*t and you know I'm the one (You know I'm the f**kin' one)
Aim my switch at you, bet I chi-chi
Dead opp, I just got dead n***as in my lungs (Dead n***as in my pack)
Throw your set up, n***a, where you from? (F**k you bang?)
Get your get back, n***a, where your gun? (Get your f**kin' get back)
My trigger finger itchin', this b*t*h done got numb (Sh*t numb as numb)
Hit his head, his top, chest, hit his lungs (Hit his b*t*h a**)
Paralyze this pu**y, faceshot the n***a, he done
Now his mama crying 'bout her f**kin' his son ('Bout that b*t*h-a** n***a, ayy)
Slide through the bity, nobody out, tryna put a b*t*h on a tee
Face shot, gang in my city wanna terrorize the streets
Big-a** bullets take down Suburbans and they'll flip a Jeep
No more hot cars, I got it rented for the whole week
Slide through the bity, nobody out, tryna put a b*t*h on a tee
Face shot, gang in my city wanna terrorize the streets
Big-a** bullets take down Suburbans and they'll flip a Jeep
No more hot cars, I got it rented for the whole week (For the whole week)

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