a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

drego - what you got to know lyrics

[intro]
on bloods
(westside)
boy
say the road too hot, set up shop and i’ma send it (beep)
they say the road too hot (man)

[verse]
they say the road too hot, just set up shop and i’ma send it
i got a brand+new glock, i’ma test it out, i’m tryna spin him
this a brand+new thot, baby, bend it over, i’m tryna hit it
this a topside block, i’ma close the curtains when i hit it
you tryna move the bag, i got hoes with licenses, just give me the price
talkin’ bodies, they get me excited, tryna catch
this sh+t just like pilates, walk up in your kitchen, get to stretchin’
all this work around, baby, you can’t tell me that this not the eighties
if they catch me with this work, like billie jean, b+tch, that’s not baby
tell the feds let my dog right up out them cages
h+ll yeah, we sellin’ dog right up out the cages
when that sh+t come in a ten, though, you gotta tame it
b+tch, ah, ah
free my n+gga sl!ck rick, he fightin’ them murder cases
i let my fiend get a taste, he started harlem shakin’
i told my b+tch, “tuck the glock”, this sh+t for our safety
hold on, watch how you be holdin’ it, it ain’t got no safety
these white tees that we sellin’ you can’t get from macy’s
you the type of n+gga be playin’ roles in the streets
i’m the type of n+gga to send a load, get it while i sleep
i be sippin’ mud, i came from the mud
i live with the plug, i got unlimited drugs
on my wrist, n+ggas, they cuz, but my k!llers bloods
‘fore they let me take a bid, they’ll k!ll the judge
don’t take no money out the brib unless a n+gga coppin’
i can see it in his eyes that he ain’t really shoppin’
‘fore i send it down the way, i calculate the profit
n+ggas speakin’ on my name, i bet it’s bodies droppin’
got a lane on a girl, lane on the blues
i can pour me up a twelve and still’ll never snooze
i can take a couple l’s and still’ll never lose
’cause my plug gon’ send the package ’cause she know i move
b+tch, uh, i can tell he new (boy)
catch him walkin’ out the pen’ and put him on the news
his fam’ like, “d+mn, he just got home, what the f+ck he do?”
heard you the one that got the pape’, sh+t, blame it on your troops
he think i’m out here for a show, i’m down here for the lo’
i got fifty on his head, just keep it on the low
i got this one route in the shh, it’s in a chokehold
i can send a thousand beans, they bringin’ the pros
tell my hitters on the floor, they bringin’ the poles
i heard the feds, they be watchin’, i’m strikin’ a pose
her n+gga be givin’ me dap, i’m f+ckin’ his ho
i told her, “baby, i’ll never tell it, i’m keepin’ it low”
yeah, you know i’m bangin’ blood but i got his lo’
soon as a n+gga slip, i’m bustin’ his dome
told the n+gga, “you don’t need google, dog, to get this chrome”
i call up pape kevin, yeah, ’cause it’s home alone
call me kyle mcgregor, dog, the way young n+gga slang a ‘bow
you can call me vince carter way i’m bangin’ o
yeah, my dog still in the o just like damon jones
[outro]
that’s what you gotta know

- drego lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS