Correction Lyrics Dead Body by Pressa

Featuring(s) : Rowdy Rebel

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Lyrics

[Intro: Rowdy Rebel]
Grrt-the, boom
(M-M-M-Money Musik)
Grrah-grrah (Pressa)
Wassa, uh
Started with nothin' but turned into somethin'
Got in my bag and got out my feelin's
(Money done beat that motherfucker)
Who want smoke? We bringin' that pressure
We won't speak, won't do nothin' extra

[Chorus: Rowdy Rebel]
Who want smoke with young Rowdy and Pressa?
The motherfuckin' steppers, let's talk 'bout it (Come on)
Please watch your step when you close to this motherfuckin' street 'cause I'm pushin' a big body (Get the fuck on)
I keep on smokin' these packs on packs, I'm fallin' asleep off of dead bodies (What)
I cannot trust anybody, I gotta move Kosher, he probably a fed' body (Ha, ha)

[Verse 1: Rowdy Rebel]
On a yacht, private party with killers (Come on)
Now my bank account more than six figures (Shmoney)
Like, you look at we one of the littest (Gang)
And my city be one of the biggest (Gang)
I get money and handle my business (Huh?)
I stay focused and stay out my feelin's (Come on)
No it ain't hard, it was easy
I buss up this molly with Fiji, like, "Brodie, call GG" (See us)
And tell 'em come through the whole gang, uh (Pull up right now)
Then I'ma bust in her [feegie?] (Ha)
I cannot wait to go get it and I threw the gang on my back
Yes I did
She cannot wait to come get it
Now why she keep comin' back? Yes she is
Huh

[Chorus: Rowdy Rebel]
Who want smoke with young Rowdy and Pressa?
The motherfuckin' steppers, let's talk 'bout it
Please watch your step when you close to this motherfuckin' street 'cause I'm pushin' a big body
I keep on smokin' these packs on packs, I'm fallin' asleep off of dead bodies
I cannot trust anybody, I gotta move Kosher, he probably a fed' body
Who want smoke with young Rowdy and Pressa?
The motherfuckin' steppers, let's talk 'bout it
Please watch your step when you close to this motherfuckin' street 'cause I'm pushin' a big body
I keep on smokin' these packs on packs, I'm fallin' asleep off of dead bodies
I cannot trust anybody, I gotta move Kosher, he probably a fed' body

[Verse 2: Pressa]
If we spin around on your block, lil' nigga, don't play
You know that's a dead body
I fell asleep on a dead body
These bullets, they goin' for everybody
I fell in love with the typical, she don't know what they say about me (Yeah)
I feel like the fed's on me (Huh)
I feel like a rebel, Rowdy (Racks)
All for the gang, three fuckin' letters
We only ask, we ain't gon' let up (Nah)
Crodie got life, he on a letter (Letter)
He ain't receivin' his letters (Nah)
Big 40 Glock, this no Beretta (Yeah)
We get the drop then we off to get him (Gang, gang)
We dig him up, we get the shovel (Shovel)
I fell in love with the barrel, uh
The plug, he don't call me no more, why?
Probably hit him for more
We had to kick in the door
I fell in love with the [?], shit
Most my niggas 'round me kill shit, don't condonin' hoe shit
Bought two bricks
I fetch you one, you should just come buy four bricks
I'm in the cut, I'm wit' Sos' ('Sa)
We send it up to Detroit, uh
I'm in the club with my pole (What)
And I ain't your typical guy (Nah)

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