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9000 rondae - ghost lyrics

[intro: 9000 rondae]
yeah
9k, n+gga
yeah, long live woop
f+ck the other side
now that’s for life, though
yeah, huh

[verse 1: 9000 rondae]
why the f+ck he talkin’ like he that and he ain’t a ho? huh
they know ain’t n0body droppin’ me but my p.o
yeah, found out she was f+ckin’ me, beat her to a pulp
they know i keep it on me, dumb as f+ck you think i don’t
know the glock a ghost (yeah), turn you to a ghost (yeah)
i done left my b+tch with mone and he done turned her to a ho
i don’t ask him what he on, ’cause i know that he on go
it sound convincing on them songs, but i know that he a joke, huh
r.i.p the gang, yop, free them n+ggas too
they was waitin’ on me to touch, now let’s see what n+ggas do
young dog swear he an opp, n+gga, who the f+ck is you?
while you ahead, you should stop, i’d hate to k!ll you, huh
mama on my head, bae, you need to stop
opp b+tch tryna f+ck, i told her, “bae, i need a drop”
how the f+ck this n+gga gang and he ain’t never sent a shot?
sh+t, around my daughter age, my daddy let me shoot the glock, huh
50 on the glizzy, a hundred on that yop
you survive, you for sure gon’ need a surgeon and a doc’
and a miracle, ayy, free my n+gga rj, free siri, n+gga
turn you to a ghost, the glock, hmm, ain’t got no serial
[verse 2: roadrunner glockboyz tez & glockboyz teejaee]
your k!ller died, that’s a plot twist
that n+gga cold+hearted, that’s why he be on that hot sh+t
don’t gas that n+gga head up ’cause my n+ggas pop sh+t
might get to throwin’ at you if i hear you playin’ my opp sh+t
don’t do the x, shoot at us, we shootin’ back
should’ve wore a hammer, somebody left a hole in his hat
this 2k25, n+gga still don’t want no racks
she bought a booty, sucked so many d+cks, she should’ve bought a neck, ayy
i’m back outside and i’m still alive
when i get money and i can shoot while i’m drivin’
and i be with bat+man, he be robbin’
and i be at n+ggas’ hoods the same day they say i’m hidin’ (yeah)

[verse 3: glockboyz teejaee]
date home, you know we right back to that paper
we ain’t have to make no choice, we still ballin’ like the lakers
she was beggin’ for the d+ck, i tuck it in, she couldn’t even take it
n+ggas beef with us and magically disappear, ain’t that amazin’?
bro came home, he like, “d+mn, y’all boys still ridin’ with k’s?”
we still bendin’ blocks, jumpin’ out on n+ggas, ain’t sh+t changed
i’m like michael jordan, but headshots my fadeaways
trap still jumpin’, we still f+ckin’ on opp hoes like paid
i be rockin’ by my n+ggas, they probably rock you for your chain
my n+ggas down to crash about what you got, stay inside my lane
your mans tried to slide but that n+gga died, you should’ve came
it would’ve been your lucky day, you would’ve had one in your brains, n+gga
[verse 4: the godfather]
frrt, baow, hit his ass with the switch
vs1 diamonds hittin’, look like glass on my wrist
got the neck then i bounced fast, dash on a b+tch
dumb n+gga, f+ck around and spend my last on a hit (yeah)
this a trackhawk, he couldn’t keep up so we blew past
oversized pants cost some bands, this the new fashion
k!ll him then i run back shootin’ backwards
put some cheese on his head, he play for the packers (b+tch)

- 9000 rondae lyrics

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