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corey finesse – no suburban [remix] lyrics

[produced by axl]

[intro: corey finesse]
ayo sheff g., we gon’ have brooklyn turnt to this n-gg-

[hook: sheff g.]
i’m the reason why these n-gg-s mad
we the reason why these n-gg-s mad
gang the reason why these n-gg-s mad
money coming fast
gotta chase a bag
i’m the reason why these n-gg-s mad
we the reason why these n-gg-s mad
gang the reason why these n-gg-s mad
money coming fast
gotta chase a bag

[verse 1: corey finesse]
we the reason why these n-gg-s jealous
c-walking in my margielas
locs with me and they all felons
i don’t trust the opps
they be all telling
they the reason why we all bailing
50 shots
ima shawn bell ’em
spin his block
when i get the drop
from my little thot
with a big weapon
we don’t spin in no suburbans n-gg-
walk up on you while you walking
f-ck you doing all that talking?
but i’m still gon’ have to chalk him
when i pull-up
pull the curtains n-gg-
catch a folk and ima off him
paul bearer
bring the coffins
i done took too many loses
chitty, chitty, bang, bang
gang, gang, gang, gang, gang
c.i.p. kokane
still on that same thing
big dog
great dane
still on that same sh-t
red dot
can’t miss
32 in my clip
it’s a suicide if you try me
all you n-gg-s know my body
booted up and we wilding
shmoney dancing in the lobby
n-gg-s know i’m a problem
hollow tips gonna solve them
he ain’t surviving
run it up
money piling
free my dogs on the island
they know i got ’em

[verse 2: sheff g.]
n-gg-s watch
n-gg-s lurk, ima put his guys on a shirt, then bend his block with a…, ima send him shots with a…,
look, n-gg- money pile
they be hurting, have my locs slide down and burn him, big bullets glide down and curl ’em, with a grey flag putting work in, catch you with the ls and we tote, let them demons out
ain’t in a joke, catch him walking round with no pole, have my hollows bop in his coat, then my franklin side leave him floating, and my caton guys close the curtain, all my n-gg-s grinding for certain, trey shots slide in and skurt, moving gang n-gg-s do this, moving gang n-gg-s shooters, take your stash, how we looting
n-gg-s chat
leave ’em snoozing with a couple shots
we gon’ let him have it, my third’s spin blocks, watch ’em send free shots from the automatic, send three shots, make a sergeant panic, man the works
lil 40 got a b-ss, so loud in this b-tch, toting on two, three rounds in the clip, moving shots down tryna slide on me b-tch, had to lay his -ss down
n-gg-s blinding and sh-t, call up frost
airing out crowds with the sh-t, ceasar hot
tearing down blocks with the tips, i done got way too hot with this sh-t, i should put the gat down
but i ain’t tryna slip, let ’em know, we don’t spin in no suburbans, walk up gunning just to hurt em, grab the nina for the purging, catch him sliding
it’s a murder, i ain’t playing with you gerber’s, frost gon’ roll ’em like he herbert, any season know it’s scorching, moving on em
steady scoring

- corey finesse lyrics

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