Correction Lyrics Pop Shit by Tle Cinco

Back

Lyrics

I'm spendin' ten racks
How I'm startin' my day
These n***as love to hate
We get to pullin' on blocks
N***as jump in the gate
Could've f**ked first night
Got the face, I can see the racks
On Casey, the sh*t outrageous
Pockets like a phone book
Got pages, I don't f**k with these n***as
They callin' me racist, f**k n***a play
We erase em', gang!
Reach for my chain, don't do that
We on these f**k n***as top, like some hair
And a doorag, dropped fifteen hundred
On a shoe bag, fifty percent GD other fifty
Throwin' blue rags, gotta be worth it
I'm spendin' my cash on it
Bankroll green, like gra** on it
Hop in a b*t*h, skirt off
This b*t*h got no tag on it
No Jimmy Nuetron, I'ma blast homie
This sh*t here, ain't no where else
I got this sh*t off the top shelf
Cookin' this sh*t like top chef
I keep a [?] on stage if I can't bring my Glock there
Trap house jumpin' out the gym, we got hops there
Pulled up to make a play, it was cops there
Spent five times, one day
Tried to pop some, and doing all my shows
Give a f**k if it's the opps there
I'ma spazz out, crash out
In the street like the verses
Ain't goin' for three bands now
I'ma cash cow, I'ma cash out
He tried to keep up with money but lil' buddy
He done ran out, we had spinned in a Benz
We done ran down, he went to shootin'
A lil' nine but this Mac [?] stand out
Walked in the room, had her a** out
I'm countin' dineros, I'm handlin' my business
I'ma man now, roll up the opps
And we smoke em', I got my d**k in her mouth
In her throat, I'ma choke her
I can barely breathe, thick gold choker
We got foreign and old schools
Dre pull up on a floater
Phone ringin' think I need a Motorola
Cinco a migo, I do this sh*t here for the culture
I'ma shoot and he gon' shoot too
I ain't do no talking, we just get to blowin'
Like a flute, b*t*h I'ma country boy
Stop all [?] no back in
I ain't comin' out (Ayy)
Hit from the back and I pull her hair
I get to pull up and shootin'
Swear to God I don't who to spare
Ice on my neck like a cooler there
.308 bullets so big, swear to God
I can shoot a bear, say "you got racks"
Who you foolin' there?
Truckload pull up and treat the scene
Like a [?]
I get to floatin' and rollin' in motion
They like "lil' n***a stop that"
I keep the strap, swear to God
They know I'ma pop that
I don't beef with lil' boys
Where ya pops at?
He done went broke, now his baby mama
All on my [?]
She givin' long neck like a ostrich
I stay flyer than the two lil' dudes in the c*ckpit
No 4th of July, I'ma pop sh*t, gang!

music video

Your name will be published. Leave fields blanks to remain anonymous.