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917 rackz - big drum lyrics

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[intro: blaccanese, yus gz & ]
gang
grrah, like, rackz, like
(bow+bow+bow)
get back gang (every opp shot, still the face of the—, grrah)

[verse 1: blaccanese]
it’s me, yus and rackz, like
got the gz and the primes in the back
how we hidin’? they know where we at
dissin’ on the guys, get turned to a pack (grrt, bow)
farewell if you spinnin’ my block
wildin’, hop out, cl!ckin’ on the opps
i’m that n+gga, i think they forgot
thumbin’ through hundreds, yeah, i get a lot
[verse 2: 917 rackz]
i’m like, “yus, blacc, we movin’ too hot but we too tact”
i got a few straps, but i know the opps ain’t gon’ boom back
they just stay watchin’ face and watchin’ the [?]
smokin’ opps to the face, you know that i’m dumpin’
and the got it so laced, it’s f+ckin’ my lungs up
he be doin’ the race, how the f+ck he gon’ run up?

[verse 3: yus gz]
like, got a beam on the chop, if he talkin’ on bro
like, spin through, hop out, there he go
if he throw up a o, that’s a no
like, try to run, ain’t no where he could go
i got my ar+15, wit’ a scope
i’m the face of the bronx, gotta clutch on a pole
better up, no perc, i’ma up it and throw
chase down gang, tried to run, he was slow

[verse 4: blaccanese]
these n+ggas ain’t f+ckin’ wit’ me
this b+tches be broke and they f+ckin’ for free
me and bro, been spinnin’ for weeks
i told ’em, “cl!ck on the first one we see”
off a perc, i’ma rap to the beat
slide first, put that boy on a tee
dumb n+ggas got lined by a treesh
lackin’ for p+ssy, how stupid is he?
[verse 5: 917 rackz]
3 ooters so boy, ain’t no room in the v
streets called, so i move wit’ the heat
how stupid is he?
when it get dark, put his ooter to sleep
they know how i rock, i’m in tune wit’ the streets
i maneuver and creep
you in tune wit’ the v?
i’m always on go, he assumin’ it’s beef

[verse 6: yus gz]
ayo rackz, like, they want ’em dead, might dump in all black
they like, “yus, you move too tact”
he thought it was me, he was lookin’ at blacc
pop out, give rid of matt
like, blitz through the front, i’ma blitz through the back
like, on a drill, try to run, get ’em packed

[verse 7: blaccanese]
get the addy, we blitzin’
bro saw a clique and then he keep on cl!ckin’
put a 30, in this smith &
he tried to run on his mans but he tripped ’em
f+ck a tv, we put ’em on citizen
it’s a gangster party, you ain’t gettin’ in
put the beam to his cap, i ain’t missin’ ’em
he got hit wit’ that heat, left ’em sizzlin’
[verse 8: 917 rackz]
heard the word in the streets?
i’m rackz, i don’t say a word when it’s beef
you can’t talk ’bout my life, you ain’t livin’ in
you can’t tote by my side, you ain’t spinnin’ in
and i’m always outside, i be spinnin’ sh+t
redrrdrr, slide the drum, it got a kick in it
off [?], she takin’ pics wit’ it
let that bread talk, i’ma be flippin’ it

[verse 9: yus gz]
like, grrah, grrah (bow+bow)
big+big+big drum, got a kick
when i slide through bl!ck, all runnin’ and trip
leave ’em done, you a snitch
they don’t want me and brodie to blitz
big drum, got a kick
when i slide through bl!ck, all runnin’ and trip
when we spin, had ’em runnin’ and sh+t
i know a opp that got beat and went out by kick
when we spin, had ’em duckin’ and sh+t
beam on his head, if he bluffin’ and sh+t
bullets hit em, he gushin’ and sh+t
knocks all big, i ain’t clutchin’ this sh+t
ooter go kuu, he legit
wanna blow when i blitz, it’s just me and my stick



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