corrija a letra Letra Dead Opps(remix) por Pooh Shiesty

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Lyrics From Snippet:

Taylor Made da' Beat
Back in Cali, B*t*h
Blrrd(Memphis)
Glock 26 or 44 bulldog(nope)
Maybe an' Ar-15 wit' a .223 Scope(Big Blrrd)

Know I need a bigger bag to get a bigger pack
If I lose it all today I’ma get it right back(Big blrrd)
Don’t cross that line boy got some hittas that’ll move ya back
I’m just run it up to the field
And it's still a few hitters from the six (Six)
Jumpin' over bodies when them boys say, "Hit the switch"
N***as dip, who you think around the corner? It's a drill
All these blues on me, man, they thought I had a deal
I'm from the six, we don't do no drive-bys
Walk up, it's a hit, f**k who you with
We gon' pull up bangin', all my n***as bangin'
Keep a blick, smokin' on that stankin', man, that sh*t get dangerous
Draco, ain't no aimin', all my killers anxious
Like, "Who is he?," you don't think thе n***a safe, he lose a limb
Fifty thousand chain, half of that'll gеt you hit
Ah sh*t, caught that boy dissin', now he dead
These n***as hoes, you know, I know(B-b-b-b-b-b-big blrrd)
He think he slick, I know he told(Smile out)
I'm on the road, still tottin' pole(blrrd)
My gun be hot, yo sh*t be cold(yo Sh*t be cold)
If you get caught, you better not fold(Nope)
He had a case, the Opps on hold(F**k the Opps)
He still locked up, it's takin' long(blrrd, blrrd)
Shawty wanna know when he comin' home
He plug say he could make me the plug (Okay)
Lick hit my phone say he want a 3.5 okay (Straight za)
80 fo' the 3.5 okay, N I’m buying all the Guns
Spin that block never get upset
Put bands on his head go cash that check
Broke a** boys tryna build that rep
They ain’t got no cred(blrrd)
Go bark on the net(on the Net)
Making these moves I ain’t playing no chess
I don’t gotta fake vibes I don’t wanna pretend
We took his soul and we made it ascend
No matter what we ain’t making amends
How you got bands you paying for rent
His bro got shot and he got real bent
He ain’t got no gun so I know that he stressed
If I pull up you than I’m taking your head
Spinning that block and I spin it again
We don’t got time for no games or b*t*hes
End of the day we be tryna get richer
I’m like Ronaldo go kick it back
Spin my block I’ll spin right back
My opp got turned right into a pack
This half quarter is going 50 a bag
B*t*h I’m the type put the hood on the map
They was talking all that sh*t up on snap
Another Sack, Tryna Whip up some new Crack
I’ll shoot' em in the back(slime you out)
Ain’t tryna twitter talk cut the chit chat
I’m in my city, one thing you can’t do is lack
You Know these N***as are Snake that’ll stab you in the back
I remember when I touch my first rack
I'ma run it up night I ain’t never look back
All blicks, we just play this sh*t for keeps, that's all year
I let it off, I keep my blick, I set it off up in this b*t*h
I seen it all, been in this sh*t since a lil' youngin', since a jit
He said it all, I heard that boy, he rat, I heard that boy he snitch
I bet it all, I bet the opps know not to pull up on the six (Brra)
A hundred flicks, that's a hundred shots, look like we takin' pics
Took Memo a trip, he just start shootin', I told him, "Get a grip"
She watch her left, sayin', "Six hundred K'll get you killed"
And I'm off a pill, I'm just sittin' back, how I got the drill
Know I need a bigger bag to get a Bigger Racks(bigger Racks) boy got some hittas that’ll move ya back in blood(back in blood, blrrd)
Get Shot in the field(Big blrrd)

Blrrd-blrrd, Blrrd-blrrd, Big blrrd
Back in blood, Slime you out
Brrt, brrt, brrt, brrt
Ayy, Memphis

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