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lud foe – still lyrics

[intro]
gang, gang, gang, gang!
back on that street shit!
free k!lla man, you know how i’m rockin
(bow, bow, bow!)
back on this street shit!
b-tch!

[verse]
f-ck nigga i ain’t really with that rap beef
i’m from where they clap heat, think this shit sweet?
my young niggas off them pills, on that bullshit
my daddy told me never leave the house without a full clip
i heard niggas dissing on my name, cuz i got some fame
close range, bullets hit yo face, it won’t look the same
snitching on yo mans, heard you’re wired up
we pop up with them glocks, hit yo block, leave it fired up
run with the pigs, you get hog tied up
have my mask on, left no evidence, f-ck a lineup
dope p’s, say my dope strong, make they heart buss
young nigga, i got more cream than a starbucks
diamonds on my motherf-cking neck like a starburst
i’m a player, i could pimp a hoe, make her heart hurt
riding 30″ forgiatos, b-tch we call em skrts
big bag on ya lil head, run off with that work
b-tch bad and she super thick, and she got that work
hit ya block, sideways, put this bentley on the curb
we hit ya block, broad day, leave a nigga on the curb
f-ck nigga tryna beef with me, when he from the burbs
i still keep my steal, still off a pill
i’m still lil will, and i still do the drill
i don’t drip b-tch i spill
f-ck nigga what’s the deal?
i never signed a deal, still worth a couple mill
mom’s still praying for me cuz her son in the field
boy you say that that’s yo mans, get in that jam, he gone squeal
got some young hot niggas and they ain’t got no chill
i been flexing on these broke niggas, tell me how you feel
in miami running with the haitans
b-tch we llama’d up
hit the mall, f-ck it up, b-tch i’m comma’d up
you want beef, like the dj, b-tch i’m drama’d up
we kick ya door with duct tape, gift wrap ya mama up
why these niggas hating on me? cuz i’m styling
i be wilding, my diamonds blue like an island
i be balling, these f-ck niggas, they be fouling
pull up ferrari, these b-tches blush, they be smiling
riding with this mac on the side on me
i’m tryna fight these demons inside of me
motherf-ck the judge cuz i know she tired of me
you ain’t a k!ller nigga who you tryna be
i got this long nose .44, i call it robo
clown -ss, dissing in yo raps, you’s a bozo
we let these bullets fly, aim high, nigga duck low
my plug send me drugs, and i sell it by the boat load
my yellow b-tch -ss fat, and she got that work
hit the club, vip, with my pistol in her purse
i’m the plug, i got what you need, what you wanna purch’
smoking weed, it ain’t got no seeds, you be smoking dirt
like a bbq, stakeout, i have my niggas on alert
remember hitting frank’s now i’m taxing niggas for a verse
back in the day, when i was broke i would’ve snatched a purse
i’m a lose screw, get a check, like it was the first
f-ck a b-tch, then i f-ck her friend, you know i’m a flirt
call my phone, i ain’t pick it up, now her feelings hurt
i’m blowing strong, kush my cologne, i be smoking earth
them hollowtips demolish yo bones, boy these bullets hurt
pornstar, she got on thongs, i like how she twerk
that’s a foreign car, left right that wheel, make it skrt skrt
trapping out that bando we got soft and hard work
i can’t stop, made it to the top, it took hard work
f-ck nigga do something
fix ya face nigga
fn, pencil led bullets, i’ll erase niggas
alien, i be when them outer space k!llas
if you ain’t talking about no money won’t conversate with ya
we lawnmower, cut your gr-ss if you a snake nigga
i’m harpo, beat that pussy like i’m a slave nigga
tomorrow, it ain’t promised, i’m a today nigga
and i f-cked her but i can’t promise her i’ma stay with her
lucked up, got f-cked up, he was a brave nigga
i’m a young nigga, i’m not a rapper b-tch i’m a grave digger
i’m a kingpin, i cruise in a benz, cuz i’m a drug dealer
my nina ross, that b-tch a boss, i buss a nut with her

- lud foe lyrics

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