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Huntin’
by
SimxSantana
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Lyrics
Just know that the come up was real Do the gas, I don't f**k with the?pills Leg?scuffed, let's jump?on the drill AP yeah, I got?some to kill No cleats when I jump in the field Face shot that'll f**k up his grill When I hop on the track, give him chills So high, can't swerve at the wheel In the trap, know I move with the Glock Headshot, that maneuver is hot Go like Seth, he be shootin' a lot He don't know what to do with the rock (at all) Like my tempo, I move from the block N****s rattin', I move with the cops Keep a stick 'cause I move with the gap Simon says if he move he get popped I got a Glock and bro got a Glock And we goin' fishing' (we goin' huntin') If I throw a shot and then he throw a shot Then you goin' missin' N****s is games and n****s is lame And y'all n****s b*t*hes (y'all n****s pu**y) And we gotta mop then we gotta mop And we get the spinnin' I'm on the block tryna double up Stomach shot that will give that man bubble guts When I hop on the stage, know I f**k it up N****s b*t*hin', they know they can't f**k with us Me and bro in the trap tryna run it up We some stompers, you know you can't stomp with us We some shotters, you know you can't run with us When we hit the block bet they run from us I got the drip, the sauce She on my d**k, my balls I hit then dish her off Give him two to his back like he wall Pu**y a**, I can't get hard I tell her suck me off She use her neck and jaw Strap up, I can't go raw She know that I'm the GOAT I let her ride the boat I like to ride with tools We turn ya dawg to a ghost They know that I do the most Keep a gun on my hip, f**k a holster I give the b*t*h the cold shoulder Bro doin' hits in the Rover I spent a rack on a jacket Tryna keep up, you know you don't have it Good girl tryna f**k with a savage She see I'm the sh*t with no gla**es We can slide down his block with a 'matic We put that boy in a casket Westside where the sh*t can get tragic When I hop on the beat know I'm snappin' She know that my pockets ain't hurt Hit different angles, no Kurt Rihanna, she put in the work She ride the wave like she surf We put that boy in the dirt That's what he get, he got earthed His homie will say he got murked And the choir be singin' in church I got a Glock and bro got a Glock And we goin' fishing' (we goin' huntin') If I throw a shot and then he throw a shot Then you goin' missin' N****s is games and n****s is lame And y'all n****s b*t*hes (y'all n****s pu**y) And we gotta mop then we gotta mop And we get the spinnin' (we get a)
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