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dark lo – intro (ron harvey jr.) lyrics

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[intro]
“trackbullyz”
“hey boo boo”
“[?]”

[dark lo]
ron harvey jr., long awaited
you full of sh+t like you constipated
i could bag a brick straight if i concentrate it
in jail, heard your sneaks got confiscated
ab took 10 and the n+gga ate it
i’ll take 10 for him and we’re not related
but that n+gga so real, i feel obligated
then murda got booked, now i’m frustrated
hundred bundles got flushed when the cops raided
i felt closer to allah when the [?]
‘014 sh+t, i’m trying to cop the latest
but i’m stuck in the hood, i’m the block favorite
i’d look stupid making club songs
when these n+ggas out here shooting with their gloves on
is there a heaven for a gangster when the thug’s gone?
he just flew to miami and my plug gone
but he gon’ mail him back, [?] n+gga, it’s on
they know that boy [?] gonna get him gone
for my n+gga [?] just wasn’t [?]
he know i’m coming with my clip out
i only love that b+tch when my d+ck out
out of town, they said that philly n+gga stick out
you know, beard all poking
waves, all spinning and the truck probably floating
or drag a n+gga to the safe, tell him, “open”
and i’ll never buy syrup if it’s open
no rap beef, see me in the streets
lil n+gga seen lo, i’ll let him speak his peace
i don’t give a f+ck about you, n+gga, keep it brief
who gon’ check on my kids when i’m underneath?
put a check on your head, n+gga, i’m a g
i’ll do that sh+t myself, you gon’ cop a plea
ten toes down
we’re five deep, but it’s ten four+pounds
stand over you, ten more rounds
loud phone jumping, i need ten more pounds
music make a n+gga calm down
half the city rats, so i’m usually not around
you’s a p+ssy and your team f+ggots
yeah i know, every bar, i talk about my ratchet
but i’m really ‘bout that life, n+gga, let’s have it
9 milli end your life if i ever grab it
blacking out on these beats is a bad habit
rest in peace, osama was a f+cking savage
these new n+ggas got the game screwed
on my summer set sh+t, i’m that same dude
ab and nitty video, i got the same tools
and my main man gone [?] back my [?]
i might drink a bottle for p smooth
lil’ n+ggas k!ll for me, homie, be cool
if i ever get hungry, then he food
i know you heard of obh boy, we move
if my plug run out, then i see news
i know n+ggas want to see me in my county blues
chuck taylors on, eating county food
stab that n+gga in the back, he could barely move
or better yet, with my casket closed
dark lo got k!lled, then his n+ggas rose
heard your man got k!lled and you n+ggas froze
too many biting n+ggas, had to switch flows
too many hungry nights, had to kick those
i got secrets on you n+ggas, don’t get exposed
internet beef sh+t, i don’t get in those
‘bout to put my order in, i might get a load
by property, then i might get a rolls
my sm+t b+tch, yeah she might hit her nose
abandoned house, yeah i might get a stove
[?] electric on, then i’m cooking o’s
take a pic, grab my d+ck, middle finger pose
i heard you n+ggas k!lling over hoes
i used to hustle out in the cold
never talked to the cops, n+gga, that’s the code
look him in the eyes, n+gga never fold
never pillow talk to b+tches, that sh+t is old
you get a block down the lands, that sh+t is gold
but you might get it took, better get a hold
i never got nothing took on my son soul
you’re a rat, n+gga, crawl back in your hole
heard they put my little cousin back in the hole
‘cause he stabbed the n+gga, gave him like 30 holes
i skipped school, i had dirty clothes
and my sneaks, they ain’t had no sole
and i’ll never ever sell my soul
reach heaven after life, that’s my only goal
my lil’ b+tch, she be on the pole
f+ck a friend, i got fam and foes
two cars on your block like shop closed
ron harvey jr. sh+t, i’m ‘bout to drop a load
[break]
f+ck it, man
free ar, free murda, man
free cousin k
nah i saying?
get well, lik moss
and i’m rocking for all my n+ggas
y’all n+ggas out here pump faking
y’all know who run these f+cking streets, n+gga
obh, ron harvey jr

[dark lo]
d+mn!
let the ladder drum roll on you
same n+gga talking tough, he done told on you
i made a couple bucks off that boost mobile
obh across the world, y’all n+ggas local
when you was in jail, n+gga, who wrote you?
how to take apart a gun, n+gga, who coached you?
og for my youngings like i’m f+cking supposed to
sometimes, i want to grab my gun and go postal
every sunday with my family probably eating soul food
and i stand behind anything i ever sold you
and a n+gga like me never say i told you
223’s bullets, i could let it [?] you



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