family emergency - racks on buss lyrics
[intro]
yeah, whoa
when i wake up
i can’t wait to stain some’
oppas talkin down
’cause i’m still why they stay up
now when i catch his dumbass lackin’
it’s gon’ pay off
under pressure
[hook]
and yea i’m talkin h+lla sh+t
but where the f+ck is this sh+t comin from?
i was greenin’ out before i had turned 21 (fa+fa+fa+family emergency)
i was hittin’ l!cks when i ain’t even want nun’
i smoke designer drugs, i get ’em in my lungs (yea)
[chorus]
now+ now i stay countin’ up these bucks
m+m+my racks on buss
a+and yo shawty, she wan’ f+ck (yea, she wan’ f+ck)
that sh+t must su+suck (that sh+t must suck)
and your homeboy got no bands (yea)
like+like, he’s yo mans?
’cause he talkin’ h+lla sh+t, yea (talk+talk+, he talkin’ down)
we might throw hands
but i stay strapped with a glock though
30’s in my wock, ho
i+i sip codeine
’cause i don’t wanna f+ckin’ talk, ho (o+o)
rockin’ red on soles, that’s why i keep the socks low (yea)
sierrasix, the way i keep my sh+t on lock though
[verse]
pull out the choppa, i know you won’t shoot it
p+ssy boy, you better do it
aim at his head, now he facing the music
snap that boy just like a toothpick
i catch like all of my homies
they losing their motion, i’m telling ’em move it
’cause swear to god, if they don’t want it
i promise to god, yea, i know they gon’ lose it
g+g+g+ gang on security
if he come through to me
you know my boys will id him
truey cologne on my body
when i f+ck a hottie
you know she gon’ f+ck up my dm’s
and you know i hate all the oppas
i pull out the glock
everytime that i see one
and none of you normies
can get on my level
yea, i can’t relate to you peons (yea)
[bridge]
choppa shoot straight at his temple (chop+chop+stra+is+temple)
that sh+t gon’ f+ck with his mental (that sh+t gon’ fu+ fu+f+f+fu+tal+tal)
smoke just to waste my potential (smo+jus+my+p+p+ential)
then i might go crash in the rental (real money sh+t, yea)
[chorus]
now+ now i stay countin’ up these bucks
m+m+my racks on buss
a+and yo shawty, she wan’ f+ck (yea, she wan’ f+ck)
that sh+t must su+suck (that sh+t must suck)
and your homeboy got no bands (yea)
like+like, he’s yo mans?
’cause he talkin’ h+lla sh+t, yea (talk+talk+, he talkin’ down)
we might throw hands
but i stay strapped with a glock though
30’s in my wock, ho
i+i sip codeine
’cause i don’t wanna f+ckin’ talk, ho (o+o)
rockin’ red on soles, that’s why i keep the socks low (yea)
sierrasix, the way i keep my sh+t on lock though
[outro]
fa+fa+fa+family emergency
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