CAPA/TRACKLIST

Letra : CREEP LIKE TLC

(Don't play with him)
Uh, uh, uh
Damn, damn, damn
All black on, I creep like TLC
Damn, damn, damn
Damn, damn, damn

All black on, I creep like TLC
Shooting like, fool bust some smoke with me
Laugh to the bank, them racks tell jokes to me
Glock in my lap, I ain't going out like that
I was down bad, I was finessing, that's my bad
Racks in my jeans and it look just like thigh pads
I like foreign cars and b*t*hes who bad
I'm just tryna eat, I don't know why they mad

Damn, I don't get mad I just get to the point
My shooters just shoot, they tryna score a point
Gotta watch for these n***as, they get in there and point
My young n***as just scored us some pints
Your n***a broke, had to put him in rice
I'm clutching that Glock, something don't feel right
It feel like a setup, hope it ain't no setup
You could get you and your partner wet up
I can't wait to buss this b*t*h, it's gon' make me feel better
I'm a real go getter, he a lick, go get 'em
He talk too much, let's kill him
I'm like hold on, chill out, like I ain't tryna hear you
I be with gorillas, some of my n***as is killers
They always gon' ride for me so them my realest n***as

All black on, I creep like TLC
Shooting like, fool bust some smoke with me
Laugh to the bank, them racks tell jokes to me
Glock in my lap, I ain't going out like that
I was down bad, I was finessing, that's my bad
Racks in my jeans and it look just like thigh pads
I like foreign cars and b*t*hes who bad
I'm just tryna eat, I don't know why they mad