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XXL Freshmen 2023 Cypher - Part 1
by
Real Boston Richey
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Lyrics
(Yo, Pi'erre, you wanna come out here?) Two-hundred on me, fifty in these pockets, four pockets full Gotta say I'm gangster, check my records, it's understood Gotta say I'm mob, twist my fingers in every state Gamble with your life, I got whatever out Section 8 Tell 'em folks this rapping shit don't work, then I'ma send a ho Want ten or more, two types of exotic, told 'em send them both B on the floor, I'm from Memphis, R.I.P. to Billy Boat Wrestling with my freedom, now I got shit in a figure-four Tappin' out, hold up, stop the beat, homie, I'm blackin' out Security out on feet, Glock in my hand when I'm backin' out Who crackin' now? This what happen every time they count me out Free the guys, I'm eatin' good now, can't go back to chow I can't make no moves without my brother N***as hating on the boys, said they rich, I'm 'bove 'em I'm on some rockstar shit, fuck your daddy, fuck your mother I'm tryna fuck on his lil' sister, not say I love her I told you I was gon' get you back, that's a triple-double Always been a freaky jit, tryna fuck my cousin under the cover Slidin' in the Mustang, half a brick, I'm duckin' undercover You know I been havin' shit, I ain't never been no fuckin' runner Lil' bitch bad as Meagan Good, but Boston probably still gon' fuck her, she know I'm different No switches with me, up in traffic, gotta move statistic I'm always better but I don't rap with n***as, ain't politicking How the fuck they say I'm gang? I'm cutthroat, n***a, I ain't friendly Man, I'm tryna get in that splat, ooh, I heard that shit pacific I don't want relations, I'm just tryna fuck to be specific I can pull up in this—, snatch a bitch that's in a Bentley Killers in the back, fuck the opps and whoever come with 'em They wasn't with me Back when I was driving in my '03 I was sitting on that bench, they wouldn't play me Now I'm up on n***as like I'm KD Hey, now I just shoot, shoot Hey, I can't pass that rock, I gotta hoop, hoop Hey, she love when I pull up in that brand new coupe I don't know a thing she wouldn't do for me I don't know a thing she wouldn't do for me Hey, I don't know a thing she wouldn't do for me Grrt They can't get in without no wristbands, gang members is my big fans Claim my season every shot, killin' 'em with Killa Cam I don't know, man, stop askin' me all them dumb questions Hittas go and dump questions, slide with it Trigger finger on hold 'til my feelings get— This that ready, set, here I come, grrt, grrt, go I threw the pick and I don't get chose, get top, then he get low If you ever have a problem, n***as, hollows what I— Fuck good, bend backs, I'm every n***a's match I step in and turn heads like, "Who the fuck is that?" Ass naked on the balcony, I'm sorry and I'm sorry Blocka, blocka, blocka, blocka, where the fuck is— Huh, you know I got something to tell Big Gator up on XXL Put my problems in a blunt, I'ma spark them L's Send shots to your mans while he pick up the shells, uh You know I gotta keep it discreet Don't wanna hear no feedback when I'm feedin' the streets, uh Hit the gas, got my feet on the beats Big Gator on the check-in and you're fuckin' with a G Have to make your money moves, they don't tell nothing Last year, was on them stand-by from them Zelle buttons Uh, COVID days, can't smell nothing I can sense a pussy-ass n***a, go and smell something
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