
3 man weave - eastside reup & fmb jocahvelly lyrics lyrics
[verse 1: sk!lla baby]
b+tch wanna f+ck me, b+tch, in your dreams
police [?] down like [?]
these ain’t no wings, this cost 15
joc got 15 up in his jeans
[verse 2: fmb jocahvelly]
let gang get locked, won’t spill no tea
your b+tch love how we rock, she f+cked my team
i just bought me a new glock, it came with a beam
deezy got the big chop, f+ck up your scene
[verse 3: sk!lla baby]
i got straight drop, f+ck up your spleen
told unc shut up, for i f+ck his niece
n+ggas hate me, don’t get no cheese
thank god for that dope and dope fiends
[verse 4: fmb jocahvelly]
b+tch, i get dirty, pass me a pop
this n+gga joc trigger happy, pass him the glock
b+tch, i’m in my kitchen mode, pass me the pot
whip a thousand grams in an hour, get them in and out
[verse 5: sk!lla baby]
don’t call me mike, my dawg don’t bite
call my fiend mike, t+shirt off white
glock got that light, chop got that knife
more than twelve rounds, this ain’t no fight
[verse 6: eastside reup]
had 200 grams on me, sold in one night
hop on [?] it’s wrapped so tight
and na, we don’t cop plees, we rock on sight
don’t listen to that n+gga, baby, he rap my life
[verse 7: fmb jocahvelly]
what you get them b+tches for? i can match your price
and that dope come so strong, can hit the sh+t twice
don’t listen to that n+gga, baby, i’m trapping for real
if you come cop from me, come vacume sealed
heard a n+gga talking about sliding, how that slide look?
let a n+gga slide this way, and get his life took
i can’t do sh+t for free, it’s a price to cook
[verse 8: sk!lla baby]
you can call me peter pan, i don’t like the hook
you will never find it, your n+gga like me
tims look like lubes, stomp n+ggas to sleep
bro don’t bounce [?] shake n+ggas for cheese
it’s still f+ck [?] get rid of them beans
bro [?] hit n+ggas for cheese
but he don’t charge me, k!ll n+ggas for free
i am a dawg, these b+tches be flees
she got good head, should get a degree
[verse 9: eastside reup]
she hitting [?] for me, she need a [?]
at first, she ain’t let me see, she turned to a freak
say she ain’t never left the d, now she ’bout to see
i get it gone for the high, but get it for the cheap
fast money boys, b+tch, yeah, that’s f.m.b
yeah, turn around gang, b+tch, that’s t.a.g
take a pice up off this caine, make a b+tch o.d
i got her driving to the k, she got [?]
[verse 10: fmb jocahvelly, sk!lla baby] & eastside reup
i done seen money, these lil n+ggas ain’t used to
your big homie [?] he ain’t used to
dropping circles all off in the pot, look like fruit loops
brick got you a thousand blues, you wouldn’t have a blues clue
n+gga, we do what we want, who gon’ do something?
n+gga, touch one of mine, and he got two coming
if i hop out, them n+ggas [?] i’m gon’ shoot something
me and b hop out the coupe, and drop ’bout 200
i call my chopper pac+man, it’ll chew something
left the wittness on the scene, thought he knew something
i am not tom brady, but i throw something
my baby sada bang red, but he blew something
get that fast money, now the real f.m.b
if you don’t turn around, get t.a.g
big squad p.g.k., n+ggas know what that mean
45 glocks [?] big ass chop for reach
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