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illfightyou - cops_2 lyrics

(intro)
put your hands behind you back

(verse)
i’m on the block with a pocket full of wet dope
stepped off, double barrel shotty in my trench-coat
flex on any n-gg- thinkin’ he got it
you know my morals, ah, forget it, i got it
now what the business like?
glide around in triple black benzes
me and my twipper runnin’ b-tches
how some biddies get bended ova the counter?
hot potato gently mess around the block
work the tooly roap, f-ck a runnin’ b-tch, you givin’ up the guap
pistol pop, pistons in my engine whistle when i stop
get a knot, tell her it’s finished when it glisten off the pot
lemme not, hit the subject of that b-tch that you be loving
cuz i f-cked her just to f-ck my b-tch and sh-tting on yo pot for real
anotha day anotha m-th-f-ckin’ c-ckback
back back, b-tch i’m havin’ armageddon flashbacks
ride around the city with 20 bricks in my backpack
ride around the city, catch a body, get the plastic from the trunk
keep the black bandanna rapped around the pump
say a lot, 50 f-ckin’ d, sn-tchin’ what we want
man, not! really hope you skip me with your dramatice
cuz you really askin’ sh-t when we christmas giftin’ yo casket
look

(hook)
anotha day anotha m-th-f-ckin’ c-ckback
back back, b-tch i’m havin’ armageddon flashbacks
ride around the city with 20 bricks in my backpack
ride around the city, catch a body, all my n-gg-s lag
this be that sh-t that make you beat upon a b-tch
and turn a m-th-f-ckin’ crip into a stashbox
(then we get the money)
this be that sh-t that make ya murder for the money
turn anotha n-gg-‘s strip into a jackbox
this be that sh-t that make you beat upon a b-tch
and turn a m-th-f-ckin’ crip into a stashbox
(then we get the money)
this be that sh-t that make ya murder for the money
turn anotha n-gg-‘s strip into a jackbox
boy, i understand

(verse 2)
it’s 6 a.m., slept all night
whippin’ through yo alleyway, been feelin’ face crack pipes
kevin has jack-knives, f-ckin’ all you p-ss-es up
puckin’ out my window, i’m do or don’t in ? trucks
look
this be that sh-t that make you beat upon a b-tch
and if ya really got yo sh-t, you’d only worry bout yo money
only riddin’ with yo clique, if that hoe’s talkin’ funny
then most likely she gets chipped off the block
shipped off to pops, take the money, skip the drop
hit the mall, scoop a bit, sense to lose control
f-ck a road block
i’m feelin’ like b-tterbeat sniffin’ bad salt
drivin’ with my eyes closed, all i see is the color red
i hit the club like f-ck it, i let my hands go
one jaw, two jaws, this cling has his hands fulls
sh-t, i done known when father p-ssed me the throne
that i was made to be a winner, a killer breakin’ the rules
break bones, shatter dreams, they sagger my jeans
f-ck you! i’m tuggin’ lean in a stolen beemer so f-ck you
i stay thuggin’, i’m countin’ my money
bettin’ on horses in foreign countries
a foreign dutch spend this money light
i’m gettin’ rich, that’s socially awkward
i really party out, rather be at my loft, b-mpin’ cindi lauper
loadin’ choppers, and makin’ money off sittin’ on my couch
eatin’ lobsters or f-ckin’ b-tches on craigslist
horror flicks might cop a porsche off the lot
n-gg-, guano with yo corpse, i’m breakin’ yo dad’s jaw
dub quarrel, what’s the move? i’m steady breakin’ the law
my team’s f-ckin’ yo daughter, we dropped her off on yo lawn, homie

- illfightyou lyrics

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