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Correction Lyrics
3:27 AM
by
Tsu Surf
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Lyrics
Gang Let's ride, ah I done left some niggas where I saw 'em, but that's old shit I'm goin' to the fed' max they find another pole stick Catch him, get a coffin, where he goin', he be homesick Fuckin' on somebody everything, I need my own bitch I done came accustom to the trenches, this my habitat Double doors, I matte it black, Runtz for the cataract 40 Glock, a single shot, button make it rat-a-tat Lorenz watchin' half a brick, made that off of battle rap Watch the cloud clear when the gun rise, homie, then I want mine Relationship with fiends, I felt the pain when her son died Niggas tight as army knots, relationships get untied Chopper for the real beef, the baby Drac' was fun size Cloth cut, the bravest can't fade us Braggin' to the neighbors how we made the front pages Calls to the plug, he so generous with favors Them Pelicans, they came from LA was Ant Davis You shut your mouth, you make it out Couldn't make the murder stick Gun plug ask how many shots my nigga [?] clip Bandana, toothpick, we sideline some birdie shit Fuckin' on a cop bitch, she cool with my 30 clip You ain't got you one up in the top, then what you got it for? Niggas almost killed me, but they didn't, that is not a score Savage, lotta hits, no, we don't brag about attempts In the rental with the temp and the 40 with some [?] We stack it 'cause we gotta ball Like the youngest homies, they ain't got it all Shawty crib the stash spot, key to that, ain't gotta call If everybody hold the shit dow, then we don't gotta fall I was gettin' head watchin' Halle gettin' Monster Ball Wiz playin' Call of Duty, [?] sent the load out Hand guns and baby chopper, vest incase it's cold out He ain't ask to see his lawyer, wonder what he told 'bout Still be in the hood, be playin' spades in the fold-outs Heavy hearted, opps surround, be very cautious Learned a lot from every loss And when it's one of yours, it's such a heavy coffin I say, "I love you," then don't lie to me A wheelchair for rollin' for his hood, damn, the irony Ever catch the one that sat him down, we gon' iron him Lil' homie drillin' for his L, so I hired him Violence, glad the opps kill us, it's a challenge 'Cause wrote me stressin' 'bout his time, he stopped countin' And money be the plan A plate, chair, fork at the table if you fam I'll show you how to get it, nigga, can't hold your hand Been feelin' like the man, my bitches like to tan And she don't do the 'Gram, only got her Only Fans Look, baby, still spinnin' through the bricks Long as Lana straight, a nigga feel rich Loyal to who feedin' you, I judge you by who breedin' you Cautious of who be with you, no suckers in your vehicle Gang
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