CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : XXXTENTACION
TreeTime
Aye, you know how a n***a gotta soak up that f**king clout, you know what I'm saying? Sh*t don't sleep, n***a, my hair all grey and sh*t, you know what I'm saying, 'cause a n***a don't sleep, n***a
Gotta eat up that clout, you know what I'm saying?
You gon' store it if I pressure boy, huh (huh)
You gon' p*ss if I squeeze it boy, huh (huh)
You ain't shooting, why you flexing boy, huh (huh)
N***as hoes, they some pu**y boys, huh (huh) (Sc*m Gang!)
Can't be where I'm at, I don't know you
Bet my little n***as run up on you (Baow!)
They'll leave a n***a flat, no warning
Sc*m Gang, b*t*h, we on it, trust me 'cause you don't want it
You can try 6ix9ine if you wanna die
A-A-All my n***as down for the homicide
You'll be on a shirt, you'll be in the church
Dressed up in a box with ya mama cryin' (Ah!)
She kissing your corpse
I don't know who you is and you p*ssing me off
I aim at your heart, bullets rip through your cross
Rip you apart, st**ches can't fix it, it's straight to the morgue
Better hope you don't slip and get lost in these parts
Walk through the park after dark, catch a spark
Ten o'clock news, you'll be out on the charts
Sc*m to the Gang, praise to اللّٰ
You gon' store it if I pressure boy, huh (huh)
You gon' p*ss if I squeeze it boy, huh (huh)
You ain't shooting, why you flexing boy, huh (huh)
N***as hoes, they some pu**y boys, huh (huh)
What, hey, what, hey, shooting at your boy, hey
What, hey, what, hey, shooting at your boy, hey
What, hey, huh, hey, shooting at your boy, hey
What, hey, huh, hey, shooting at your boy, hey
Aye, you know how a n***a gotta soak up that f**king clout, you know what I'm saying? Sh*t don't sleep, n***a, my hair all grey and sh*t, you know what I'm saying, 'cause a n***a don't sleep, n***a
Gotta eat up that clout, you know what I'm saying?
You gon' store it if I pressure boy, huh (huh)
You gon' p*ss if I squeeze it boy, huh (huh)
You ain't shooting, why you flexing boy, huh (huh)
N***as hoes, they some pu**y boys, huh (huh) (Sc*m Gang!)
Can't be where I'm at, I don't know you
Bet my little n***as run up on you (Baow!)
They'll leave a n***a flat, no warning
Sc*m Gang, b*t*h, we on it, trust me 'cause you don't want it
You can try 6ix9ine if you wanna die
A-A-All my n***as down for the homicide
You'll be on a shirt, you'll be in the church
Dressed up in a box with ya mama cryin' (Ah!)
She kissing your corpse
I don't know who you is and you p*ssing me off
I aim at your heart, bullets rip through your cross
Rip you apart, st**ches can't fix it, it's straight to the morgue
Better hope you don't slip and get lost in these parts
Walk through the park after dark, catch a spark
Ten o'clock news, you'll be out on the charts
Sc*m to the Gang, praise to اللّٰ
You gon' store it if I pressure boy, huh (huh)
You gon' p*ss if I squeeze it boy, huh (huh)
You ain't shooting, why you flexing boy, huh (huh)
N***as hoes, they some pu**y boys, huh (huh)
What, hey, what, hey, shooting at your boy, hey
What, hey, what, hey, shooting at your boy, hey
What, hey, huh, hey, shooting at your boy, hey
What, hey, huh, hey, shooting at your boy, hey
