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ftos twan - rush hour lyrics

[verse]
what the f+ck? this b+tch crazy
dropped a piece in an r, this b+tch shoot crazy
yeah, they did that one sh+t, but that sh+t didn’t phase me
somethin’ happened but i ain’t say nothin’, i played it crazy
oh, they think this sh+t a game
pull up with this chopstick, i let this b+tch sing
i got a strap on the chop like my b+lls and let it hang
he ain’t certified, he got in that room then he— yeah
you know what i mean
oh, he ain’t hear the shots? all that n+gga heard was bing
oh, you don’t get his ass unsignable as hidden things
lil’ bro a wild+ass n+gga, he hit anything
this sh+t ain’t nothin’, boy, i could trip on anything
different type of hustles, i could make the pape’ by any mеans
we the type to k!ll a n+gga, makе his ass a meme
they swear that i’m a ball hog, that i don’t pass the seed
f+ck it
if they really feel like that then let it be
i’m at peace, i ain’t gon’ lie, you gotta let me be
she said her p+ssy wet as h+ll, b+tch, let me see
we finna get his ass, we started shootin’ on the count of three
if you want that n+gga dead, you could count on me
boy, i got aim with this b+tch, ain’t gotta mount my heat
to don’t movin’ when you shootin’, you gotta mount your feet
can’t take ’em serious, these n+ggas sweeter than some tea
f+ck that, a n+gga play crazy, put him on a tee
my n+gga like a ghost right now, don’t make me call up p
brodie trippin’ in the party, he rollin’ off an e
n+gga, i’m the f+ckin’ one for real, you gotta wake up
for that fettuccine, we’d get a n+gga day cut
give a n+gga a fake perc’, he ain’t gon’ wake up
girl, you know you bad, you don’t really need no makeup
n+gga, this my life, don’t give a f+ck how you feel
i know that i be trippin’, i know i ain’t got no chill
this sh+t ain’t nothin’, b+tch, i’ve been turnt before a deal
they like, “why you trippin’ off today?” b+tch, i ain’t popped no pill
dreadhead, i’m a motherf+ckin’ maniac
i’m really that, you play me once, you gotta play me back
they ain’t asked my right hand, i know my n+gga got my back
this a brand new b+tton, boy, this b+tch finna get attached
on a glock 17, this b+tch shoot like b+tter
i could hold this b+tch down or i could stutter
i ain’t gon’ argue with no b+tch, go and get your brother
they ain’t on sh+t, b+tch, i got a bullet for every brother
they woke up takin’ pictures with me, that sh+t make me happy
my b+tch wake up and give me head, that sh+t make me happy
when i hear a n+gga die, that sh+t make me happy
my cousin was a bad motherf+cker, r.i.p scr+ppy

- ftos twan lyrics

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