lul g – freestyle lyrics
[intro]
rbe x sob that’s the game b-tch
[verse]
big chop when i slide, b-tch it’s game time
touch the wrong chain, whip the .40 off my waistline
talkin’ on the net, get dropped like a facetime
stop lyin’ on the shred, lil’ n-gga ain’t take mine
one thing, i never lied on sh-t n-gga
coulda did it i ain’t wanna f-ck yo’ b-tch n-gga
she only want me ’cause a young n-gga rich
u’ll probably want to f-ck me ’cause the forgis on the whip
they said we couldn’t do it but we muf-ckin’ did
all these bands in my pockets f-ck around and blew a crib
all these chains on my neck, lil’ n-gga i’m a l!ck
n-gga out on two bails, so my shooter tote a stick
.40 on my hip, lil’ n-gga i don’t rumble
smokin’ on this gas, you be smokin’ on that tumble
ran off wit’ the sack b-tch n-gga i don’t fumble
dumb n-gga get popped tryna axe wit’ the drum hole
b-tch! the drum hole b-tch!
fif-fifty of them shots and them shots they be semi
b-tch on my d-ck get her gone off the henny
f-ck all they plottin’, hatin’ -ss n-ggas tryna end me
rip my brother, why a f-ck n-gga take him?
n-ggas claim you now, all these f-ck n-ggas fakin’
take a n-gga momma hold her -ss like it’s taken
glock jammed on me, so i’m slidin’ wit’ a ‘k clip
on my mothaf-ckin’ soul b-tch i got it out the mud
broke n-gga got the nerve, to ask for a dub
only dub a n-gga get is 20 shots out these slugs
soft dub, piece on me, lil’ b-tch i don’t hug
all my n-ggas got a bag, so b-tch we pullin’ funds
all my n-ggas got chops, so b-tch we ride wit’ guns
omg you n-ggas fast, like to see you n-ggas run
better cop a f-ckin’ strap, stop usin’ n-ggas guns
‘fore i run up on yo -ss, use his b-tch ’til it’s done
slide down, back to back, i ain’t takin’ n-ggas ones
big glock, kick back, d-mn near break a n-gga arms
i’m a young wild n-gga, might f-ck a n-gga moms
cruisin’ in the candy, might f-ck her in the foreign
pedal shift on the whip, hit the gas, i be floorin’
g-man on me, check the score, i be scorin’
i’ma die, all these drugs to the face, i be pourin’
now a n-gga on, tryna act like he know me
n-gga claim he real, naw n-gga you be phony
n-ggas they be snakes, man these n-ggas tryna stall me
strapped in the party, so i’m strapped wit’ the .40
b-tch n-gga always speakin’, n-gga come and pop off
broke n-gga, penny pincher, worker, you a clock all
one shot to your head, blow a n-gga top off
strip a n-gga down, now he runnin’ wit’ his socks off
b-tch!
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