blocboy jb – produced by blocboy lyrics
[intro]
hah, hah, check it (word)
hah hah hah (yeah yeah yeah), check it
(yeah, yeah) hah, hah (yeah yeah yeah)
hah (bloc), hah (whoa), hah (word)
[verse]
these n-ggas after me
i got them shooters on balconies
i’m gettin’ head from a b-tch and she j-panese (word)
n-ggas they talkin’, i’m loadin’ and clappin’ these
loadin’ and clappin’ these pistols (pistols)
you are not an automatic hitter (a hitter)
really you an automatic misser
f-ck it, i’ma automatic get you (huh?)
smack a n-gga -ss with the pistol (pistol)
pop a n-gga -ss like a pimple (a pimple)
store-store-store run, get the gun (store run)
up the tommy, take his funds (he gone)
take the hundreds leave the ones
for the strippers n-gga (for the strippers)
i got an sk with a shank, that’s the tipper n-gga (that’s the tipper)
beat a n-gga, sweep a n-gga
we don’t need them n-ggas (f-ck ’em)
i don’t think you n-ggas ’bout nothin’ (word)
when i see you in the street (huh?), you ain’t even got a gun
askin’ n-ggas for money (word), n-gga you ain’t got no funds
you know i do it b-i-g, you can call me big pun (yeah yeah yeah)
but i don’t smoke no pom-poms
run up, get done up (word)
my clip is so heavy, i can’t hold my arm up (my arm up)
y’all n-ggas faker than warmups (warmups)
i got the bread like a farmer (i-i-i-i)
shoot like i’m mario chalmers (chalmers)
workin’ my wrist, f-ck my arm up (f-ck my arm up)
i feel like nash on the suns, mario chasin’ them coin
you dancin’, we pull up with guns, i’m 700, you done (crip, crip)
got my hitters in the front like a radiator
using big words so you know they annihilate you
i’m in her mouth like now & laters, b-tch i got all flavors
bring that sh-t back, no turntable
multiply that like times tables
we ain’t got time for that
if you really want a crease, use the iron for that
now a n-gga need a piece of his spinal back
in a line of mac’s
ke-ke-keep that, keep that iron for that
if it’s an altercation, n-gga we use nines for that
we don’t do conversations, baby we don’t got time for that
we ain’t got time for that, we ain’t got time for that
[outro]
(hey, wait)
we gon’ do the ad-libs
(hey, wait)
tay, told ’em go’n do the ad-libs
klay, i got your b-tch callin’ me a, bae
and i really don’t know what to, say
i want her head like some motherf-ckin’ braids
and you know i’m finna, ayy, ayy, ayy
and i made this beat, ayy
got your b-tch and she in the sheets, ayy
and we turnt up in the studio
track nation, yeah we live in this f-ckin’ ho
i got your b-tch, she tryna book me for a f-ckin’ show
she gon’ make you pay for it, and you already know
b-tch, i’m live
like channel five
i just put ’bout a three five
in a blunt, now i’m so f-ckin’ high
to the sky though
n-gga askin’ me these questions, i’m like why though?
and my n-ggas got that money standing five four
my money standing six four, i’m in a six four with the loads
crip, crip, crip crip crip crip crip, crip, crip, crip
crip, crip, crip crip crip crip crip, b-tch
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