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bez19 – i ain’t no joke lyrics

[intro: bez19]
yeah
yeah

[verse 1: bez19]
these n-ggas don’t want smoke (no), i’m known to let the glock blow
i remember jumpin’ out, puttin’ one in his throat (to the neck)
lil’ n-gga twenty shots in a moncler coat
had to break the c0ke down, then i send me a ho (send me a ho)
i remember pops shot before i got mine first
i remember handoffs comin’ fresh out her purse (fresh out her purse)
pull it fresh out her skirt, either way, it’s fresh check-ins
40 or not, either way, i got my weapon (yeah)
dumb -ss n-gga second guessin’, you think i left it? (no)
two on one with the 40, i’m real reckless (yeah)
tried to run in the spot, i let off so many shots (bah)
semiautomatic, double action, the good glock
yeah, we got on your boy, pulled up in ski masks
got his b-tch -ss baby bro, he still laughin’
say he wasn’t in it, so that murder was tragic
want smoke with the 9, lil’ n-gga, you see what happen

[verse 2: lil yee]
so much smoke on the low, my n-gga, it’s like we tackin’
my ar named dungeon, my draco named dragon
like peyton manning, i’m done with giving p-sses
when we caught bro slippin’, cudy, you know we should’ve stamped him (stamp)
yeah, aight tho (aight), let the pipe blow (woo)
make a fat n-gga skinny like lipo’ (uh-huh)
n-ggas talkin’ ’round b-tches just like hoes
d-mn, four philly switched up, he with the five-o (ayy, with the fifty ball)
bro, your mans out shooting with his eyes closed (he is)
he ain’t hit sh-t but windows and car doors (that’s what he did)
f-ck where you from, lil’ n-gga, is your heart cold?
up the scanner on a n-gga, treat him like a barcode
in the trap, no more xans, all the bars gone
we keep wocky comin’ and the tech, all the par gone
i was limpin’ and pimpin’ inside a warzone
we got mops when the floor dirty, up the score, bro

[interlude: bez19]
yeah, n-gga, free the real motherf-ckin’ 1-9, n-gga, you know what the f-ck goin’ on, n-gga
20-1-9, it’s our time to shine, n-gga
we still here, n-gga, we ain’t goin’ nowhere

[verse 3: bez19]
free the b-tch, ’cause you don’t check the b-tch, you like to check her phone (what?)
i checked that 5k and left that b-tch alone (gone)
i’m 1-9, i don’t care who she f-ckin’ on
all i do is pick up the phone and say i’m coming home
free my lil’ brother p, you know he comin’ home (yeah)
how you tell on your folks? these n-ggas dead wrong (p-ssies)
in the strip club with the snow, i mean the zip
she guaranteed a couple thousand when he take a hit
before i ever send myself, i gotta send a b-tch
free my young n-ggas, count a hundred bands off the biff
i shoot to score, spray a hundred rounds out this b-tch
shooter or k!ller, lil’ n-gga, know what the difference is
shooter back in middle school, and we was only kids
swear to god i caught him slippin’, better thank the kids

- bez19 lyrics

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