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fbg murda & vonoff1700 – relapse lyrics

[verse 1: fbg murda]
no trollin’, i don’t wanna tease, boy, i’m tryna make the n+gga use his feet (make the n+gga use his feet)
not replyin’ to sh+t n+ggas say on the ‘net, just pop out and tell me when you tryna meet (tell me when you wanna meet)
heard that sh+t on his head, my shooter get close with that heat, we don’t shoot from the end of the street
they left him for dead, that n+gga got left in the e broad day, n+gga put him to sleep (shooter put him to sleep)
i’m gettin’ tired of these n+ggas, keep rappin’, but ain’t tryna bump, tell them b+tches come hoop (come hoop)
lil’ bro pledgin’ switch
it’ll turn a bully to a b+tch, n+ggas hoes and they ain’t in a group (n+gga, bd)
don’t care if i blow, but i’ll still’ll jump out that b+tch or throw lil’ bro the alley+oop (throw lil’ bro the alley+oop)
this n+gga a goal, i throw, but just hand me a bl!ck, give it here, n+gga know what i do (slime)

[chorus: fbg murda]
‘za got me higher than a b+tch, but i’m tryna f+ck somethin’, i done relapsed off the perc’
n+gga ain’t takin’ sh+t, don’t come around here tryna buck nothin’, that’s gon’ get his ass a he+rs+
just ’cause i rap, don’t think i won’t get down and creep, you can give me a stripe for a verse (stripe for a verse)
we get n+ggas tapped, they left brother in with that glee, tryna fight, you gon’ leave on a shirt (leave on a shirt)

[verse 2: fbg murda]
n+gga won’t come out the house, then just bang that sh+t out, you gon’ make me come shoot through the blind (make me come shoot through the blind)
sh+t been dry, these n+ggas ain’t been on they block, came through like three, four times (boom, boom, boom, boom)
initial right here on top of my grave, off the love, i’ll get that sh+t done for a dime (get that sh+t done for a dime)
bet n+ggas gon’ die chasin’ fame, rap sh+t don’t work, then you know that it’s back to the slime (back to the slime)
don’t put it on john, ain’t put in no work or merch it on—, mm, dead ass, i’m lyin’ (merch it)
all that tough talk gon’ get a n+gga murked
dead on arrival, bro ass ain’t replyin’ (your ass not replyin’)
watch me work the back seat, a+plus shooter, a hooper n+gga, i don’t know sh+t ’bout drivin’
tryna get two for one, we want the mama and her son, boy, i ain’t tryna hear that ho cryin’
[chorus: fbg murda & vonoff1700]
‘za got me higher than a b+tch, but i’m tryna f+ck somethin’, i done relapsed off the perc’ (free my hood, n+gga)
n+gga ain’t takin’ sh+t, don’t come around here tryna buck nothin’, that’s gon’ get his ass a he+rs+ (that’s gon’ get his ass a he+rs+)
just ’cause i rap, don’t think i won’t get down and creep, you can give me a stripe for a verse (alright, free my hood, n+gga, give me a stripe for a verse)
we get n+ggas tapped, they left brother in with that glee, tryna fight, you gon’ leave on a shirt (f+ck your hood, n+gga, we’ll come extort your hood)

[verse 3: vonoff1700]
alright, i just came through shootin’ and missed, but that ain’t sh+t, so i’m finna relapse the block (alright)
i don’t really talk ’bout the opps, all i can say is them n+ggas be dyin’ a lot (they dead ass)
i’m not a regular rapper, i’m the type to pull up and drop me a whole hundred shots (come here, come here)
just checked your name, and all of that sh+t you said, they said your lil’ ass not (your b+tch ass)
i’m young and dumb, i got way too many guns, i’ll go to war with the swat (you know that)
just got a lo’ on an opp ot, me and murda on i+35 in the hot
we pull up, start shootin’ they heads and never at legs, you f+ck n+ggas know how we rock (the f+ck?)
bounced out on him, his b+tch ass ain’t get to run, this ten m knocked off his socks (dumbass)
he ain’t know sh+t ’bout the beef, his dumb ass jumped off the porch right into a box (his dead ass)
murda say, “jigga smoke like og,” so i told him to mix that sh+t up with some top
one of the opps so dirty, can’t wait ’til i catch him, i’ma hit his dumb ass with a mop
caught his dumb ass at the traffic, he tried to pull off, i was shootin’ ’til that b+tch stopped (for real)
i ain’t nothin’ like craig, let ’em try to take my gun, i’m slappin’ the sh+t out my pops (his dumb ass)
i don’t wanna go like—, that n+gga a goofy, his dumb ass died with a chop (his b+tch ass)
tell ’em free three, soon as he walk out them doors, we goin’ to hit us a lot
just got a drac’ with a drum, so don’t even run ’cause the side of this b+tch got a dot (come here)
don’t be in the car with that n+gga, we k!llin’ whoever he with, even his thots (for real)
i just f+cked up, spended my last on amiris, now all of my sh+t got a knot
dropped at diss song at 10 and at 10:45, that’s when his dumb ass clocked (dumbass)
keep textin’ my phone like, “is you finna eat my p+ssy?” and that got her dumb ass blocked (f+ck)
walk up on the v, i ain’t have to bust through the windows, the door was already unlocked (come on)
one of the opps so old, we can’t even smoke him, his dumb ass ran out of stock (his dead ass)
before i was rappin’, i was posted on north ave sellin’ your auntie rocks (how much many you want?)
put all them shots in his head, i knew he was dead, i ain’t have to check on spot (b+tch, come here)
[chorus: fbg murda]
‘za got me higher than a b+tch, but i’m tryna f+ck somethin’, i done relapsed off the perc’
n+gga ain’t takin’ sh+t, don’t come around here tryna buck nothin’, that’s gon’ get his ass a he+rs+ (that’s gon’ get his ass a he+rs+)
just ’cause i rap, don’t think i won’t get down and creep, you can give me a stripe for a verse (give me a stripe for a verse)
we get n+ggas tapped, they left brother in with that glee, tryna fight, you gon’ leave on a shirt (boom, boom, boom, boom)

- fbg murda vonoff1700 lyrics

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