corrija a letra Letra Biggs Out por BabyTron

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Ayy, yeah, come on (I just walked in too, n***a)
It's G.T., n***a (This sh*t off the dome, n***a)
Ayy, n***a, what up? (Let?s get this sh*t in, n***a)
Ayy, n***a (Big songs, n***a, let's go)
Ayy

I heard they let Biggs out
Call [?] bring the BINs out
Whip so fast, tap it and it spin out
I remember they was young as hell, n***a whip a ten out
True Religion [?] n***a, at yo b*t*h house
white, n***a, let me get it in
Flowing [?] when I stop, they spin
Next week probably in Miami in a [?]
I ain't even got no beef, all the opps dead
come through all black but the guts red
Bro, I only call yo b*t*h when I want head
And if you ever think we sweet, you gon? catch lead
Could've jumped in the 'Cat but I took the Benz
Buffs cost four flat, that's without the lens
Y'all n***as bunch of followers and we set the trend

On the East I just caught a play, where the f**k is G.T.?
Spin yo block like a record or a CD
Coming back to back like that Drake song but I ain't sign nothing
Chopstick flip the crib, tryna rewind something
Ice on, stomp yo head in, I catch you eyeing something
Chase you down on the freeway, we on the lodge busting
Ham called me tryna buy a pint, I sold him Robitussin
We got a problem? Ain't no talking, it ain't no discussion
Dropped a diss song? I dropped a chain, I don?t battle rap
Account with the pin, this sh*t easy, catching Apple jacks
When I grab my punch off the site, I?m attacking Saks
Driving off the Wock' wasn?t smart, I done crashed the Scat
We'll send him to the moon, the chop came with NASA blast
Punching up a card, told my b*t*h keep the door close
You got that one whip, that b*t*h don't even got no sports mode
He thought he caught me slipping, whole time I had the torch though
Another four pore, f**k around and get my snore on

We in this b*t*h busting down [?] keep the door closed
Hit a n***a block, hundred shots, it's [?] for closure
We don?t know you, tryna come and shop then I'm getting over
Free smoke, inhaling everything, you know we keep them blowers
Wake up, drop a eight in this pop, I hate being sober
Quick to grab the chop or the Glock and get sh*t in motion
Them bows in, touching down to 'em, get 'em straight from Oakland
Them hoes in, just to f**k this b*t*h, gotta give up tokens

Ayy, if I step foot in Meijer's then you know I'm giffy grabbing
F**k around, throw the blick to Tron, I might have Jimmy wack 'em
I can't take the gang to no occasion, they get blicky active
Born a GOAT, I might be Stan but, b*t*h, I'm Billy actually
Took the chop to Dr. Miami, it got some t**ties on it
Only ride with G's in my unit, feel like I'm 50 on 'em
Pistol poking through the 'Miri jeans, I got the blicky on me
Off-White with the camouflage, I got a ghillie on me
Huh, yeah

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