
big azrael - 187 vibes lyrics
[intro]
uh, go
uh
what?
[verse 1]
i ain’t with the talkin’, b+tch, i really spark it (boom)
most these n+ggas p+ssy, they be actin’ harmless (b+tch)
f+ck that, we gon’ off ’em, catch him, we gon’ chalk him (uh+huh)
slide up with that fully, hit his sh+t, now he a carcass (boom)
n+gga, i ain’t lackin’, play with me, it get to crackin’ (brrt)
ain’t no second chances, face shot, closed casket (p+ssy)
big ass glock gon’ blast him, switch hit, body spazzin’ (boom, boom)
pull up, get to clappin’, drop a opp, then spin it backwards (b+tch)
four deep in that striker, masked up like michael myers (uh+huh)
if he ain’t dead, we double back, ain’t leavin’ n+ggas survivors (nope)
we get shiesty with that fire, make that lil’ boy meet his higher (b+tch)
hollow tips gon’ f+ck him up, he leakin’ out, his sh+t expired (boom)
[bridge]
drac’ got kickback, watch that sh+t rip through his six+pack (uh+huh)
opps ain’t on sh+t, they in the crib, ain’t tryna get back (they b+tches)
b+tch, i’m on that slime sh+t, mask up, let that nine spit (brrt)
talkin’ like you wit’ it, now he folded up, he dyin’ quick (p+ssy)
[verse 2]
red beam on his forehead, make him see the light (boom)
said he want some smoke, now his momma screamin’ christ (uh+huh)
slide up in that tinted whip, we purgin’ through the night (skrrt)
f+ck the other side, ain’t no passes, it’s on sight (b+tch)
roll that boy up in a backwood, smoke his ass (p+ssy)
these n+ggas talk that gangsta sh+t, then turn into a hashtag (uh+huh)
pop a perc’, now i’m geekin’, f+ck around and crash that (boom)
told that b+tch to eat me up, she sucked me like a lab rat (throat goat)
too deep, just me and twin, we slide with different gens (brrt)
chop’ gon’ eat his skin, f+ck his block, we spin again (boom)
he ain’t got no bl!ck, that boy a l!ck, he ain’t no threat (p+ssy)
hit him in his chest, now his dumbass need a vest (goofy)
[outro]
all these n+ggas scared, they ain’t on sh+t, we know that (b+tch)
catch his ass lackin’, turn that boy into a throwback (boom)
187 vibes, murder sh+t, yeah, we on that (uh+huh)
hundred rounds dumpin’, ain’t no way that he come back (nope)
p+ssy n+gga, f+ck yo’ gang, and f+ck whoever ridin’ (f+ck ’em)
say it’s up, then drop the low, lil’ b+tch, we really slidin’ (skrrt)
we ain’t duckin’ sh+t, n+gga, f+ck a truce, it’s time for dyin’ (boom)
f+ck a diss, i catch you lackin’, b+tch, it’s perfect timin’ (go, go, go)
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