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kooda b - blicky's funeral lyrics

[intro]
it’s about to get sticky for the blicky
turn into the f-cking ville, man (b-tch!)
free mac f-cking molie
gdk
blicky’s funeral
y’all n-gg-s know i’m coming
we family over all
these n-gg-s got me in my burkin’
wooo

[verse]
first things first, i heard 750 and they f-cking song
i’m with the poppin’, i’m with the bending blocks we could do it all day long (skrrt, skrrt)
we are not a gang (woo!), f-ck the fame, real k!llers put in pain (in pain)
how you think i got my name? k double-o d, dumping a for aim (what else?)
the blickys done started some sh-t, you not the real 6ix so get off his d-ck (get off his d-ck)
back-back, over after this, do a hit the v
hit the b-mp and sell a whip (dummy)
fake n-gg-s wearing fake sh-t (woo!)
run up on nas with the k clip (brrt, brrrt)
told my n-gg-s on the rock
if they see a folk, make sure they leave his face split (gang)
death come in threes (white)
this for nas, six-o and 22gz (what else?)
dropping raids, ducking d’s
scooped the b-tch, shortty f-cked up her knees
xan in my system, d on my blunt
i ain’t p-ssing this, girl, what you want?
riding in the 6, all black tints
car clouded ’cause i just smoked a zip (skrrt, gang!)
hold up, stop it (woo!), big duffle almost dropped it (white)
hold up stop it, fess me up, you getting shot, b-tch
we spin them, spin them blocks
if he ain’t want die, boy a opp
for sure, son f-ck with the cops
so i gotta be careful with the chop (brr, brrt)
your man’s got this, your man’s got that
little n-gg-, shut the f-ck up (shut the f-ck up)
what did you do, did you hit my block with ya gun tucked? (no!)
no, free bando black, free lowes, free amber strap
free tone, blood f-ck with some hats
real n-gg-s, god put them in the track
this for the floss, y’all n-gg-s not wooin’
please stop jacking the movement (stop jacking our sh-t)
dump, reload, if he a scammer, we straight sn-tching his cubans (for the white!)
y’all not from the ville y’all not from o. hill
or the 10 where it’s real (white!)
i bet somebody gon’ die if i put the loads on the drill (woo!)
shooters, rugers, mission ubers, did it all with the looters (brr)
this sh-t is all facts i’m spitting, this ain’t no rumors (what else?)
kidnap a top opp (what else?), another folk in my trunk (what else? skrrt)
kidnap a top opp (ahh), boy that’s three for the month (kooda b)
in the field with the glizzy (glizzy, brr), the blicky’s gone lose a kidney (brr)
just to let y’all n-gg-s know, all my n-gg-s get busy

[outro]
it’s stick for the blickys n-gg- kno how we coming
foa

- kooda b lyrics

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