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bom - pressure lyrics

pressure lyrics
[intro]
man, y’all know what the f+ck goin’ on, man
from the charged up to the brothers over money, man

[verse 1: bom mar escobar]
n+ggas is hoes, ain’t gotta speak on it
bro got some work, that boy do scams and put his feet on it
why you talk about some sh+t if you don’t really be on it?
40 said we ’bout to get a brick and put a three on it
i’m on coney grabbin’ lamb chops
it’s funny how a lot of b+tches sick i got the bag now
crazy i was with ’em tryna get up, but was assed out
they like, “why you walk outside the crib with all that cash out?”
whole time, i ain’t even got it all on me
brodie said he need the pape’ so i met him at the county
i might be a little late, had to bump into my homie
you n+ggas ain’t never got pape’ and that sh+t blow me
a n+gga better not owe me or he gon’ get blew
i was waitin’ on the line, you was in line for a shoe
heard he talkin’ crazy, i hear brodie lyin’, now he through
you the type to talk cash sh+t online, you a goof

[verse 2: bom drew]
oh, he worried ’cause he heard we got them straps too
that boy should’ve kept hoopin’, that sh+t was wack too
sendin’ shots through your mans, go get him whacked too
ride with thirty+three extensions longer than shaq shoe
n+ggas braggin’ ’bout some sh+t i went and spent on a chain
ballin’ like ginóbili, i’ll put a dub on your brain
see me in dripped in off+white, she fell in love with the ‘caine
he see me doin’ sh+t he can’t do ’cause he lame
took some money to the lawyer case a n+gga try me
my brodie rollin’ off the pill, he down to catch a homi’
like a trust fall n+gga, i’m down to catch a body
if i shoot a n+gga, know my n+ggas right behind me
[verse 3: bom dj]
white and rose, rose and white, and all rose gold
mar copped the off+white, now all the bros froze
keep her out the kitchen, she done left the stove on
drew callin’ and he askin’ what the hoes on
after we leave the stu’, we pickin’ mar chain up
reach for one of these, he gon’ have to pick his brains up
n+ggas rockin’ jubilees, get your change up
keep a nine on me, i ain’t never got my chain took
forty in your stash, i spent that on a presi’
would’ve wore it to the stu’, but that b+tch be gettin’ heavy
if i pass the ball to drew, he gon’ shoot it with no hesi’
n+gga, i be in them banks every day like i’m desi

[verse 4: the godfather]
yeah, they f+cked up when they let me get a stick in my possession
i be in the city with baby drac’ on me, come and catch me
i don’t know the last time i left the crib without my weapon
bring out twenty racks in all dubs, this sh+t be gettin’ messy
see this chain, i dare you reach for it, you leavin’ on a stretcher
think the feds on me, i pray every day they never catch me
in the club spillin’ drank on all the couches in the section
free my n+gga baby j, he was quick to come and press you
take the fully chop and bring the fully glock, applyin’ pressure
watch me stand over the body and just empty out my weapon
crack a seal on the pint, pour it up, we ain’t gon’ measure
my n+gga doin’ life in the can ’cause he ain’t tell ’em sh+t
[verse 5: onfully]
run up you, chopper sn+tch your waist just like a bbl
last time i checked, we upped the score, need a pdl
make your lil’ b+tch suck my d+ck, i don’t gotta reveal
wrap this sh+t up and shoot it out, catch it in the mail
know we on the tour actin’ dumb, leave you on the map
in the street hustlin’, she got it on my fitted cap
twitter fingers get your ass k!lled, don’t do the internet
reachin’, leave his noodles on the curb, that n+gga look a mess
you johnny test+ass n+ggas still ain’t catch a body yet
187, put the club on crime, know the rest
speedin’ so fast, two hundred on the dash, a heart attack
i know it’s good to look like money, where your money at?
out in cali with them b’s lookin’ for where honey at
when i pop out, n+ggas know i got my gun, what kinda sh+t is that?
ten milli’, order twenty+three, call them b+tches mix and match
stop actin’ like we ain’t hit that lil’ ho, she know we been in that

[verse 6: glockboyz teejaee]
i’m only gon’ rap about some sh+t if it really happened
man, how the f+ck we out here hidin’? we keep on catchin’ y’all in traffic
baby j, he been done shot the wrong n+gga, man, he a savage
even my mama know we find out where they at, they gon’ get it brackin’
they on some bullsh+t
quit hoopin’ and now my highlights on a news clip
shootin’ jumpers, don’t try to walk up on wack jumper on no cool sh+t
i don’t play with these n+ggas, i’m always down to use my bl!ck
even the youngest n+gga i be with ride around with him a four+fifth
i f+cked the og n+ggas’ dream up, think about
i got guns like t.i., get on that tip, i bring ’em out
they gave my n+gga j+mo ten, i can’t wait ’til he get out
man, while i’m talkin’ ’bout him, he probably got the bl!ck on him right now
the hood can’t believe i rap ’cause they done seen me pop n+ggas
i’m still gon’ shoot his ass when i see him again, this sh+t don’t stop, n+gga
n+gga, brandon jennings, rookie of the year, drop off a light fifty
you wanna beef with us because we popped your mans, we gon’ send you with him
[outro]
hide your b+tch and keep a bl!ck
y’all know what the f+ck goin’ on

- bom lyrics

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