mar$hall (dbg) - stick tucked lyrics
stick tucked lyrics
[intro]
acesoulja
bro, i’m tweakin’ hard in this b+tch, bro, i can’t even hold you
i don’t know what the f+ck i’m doin’ right now
this beat wild
but i’m boutta go wild, i don’t give a f+ck
b+tch, b+tch
[chorus]
you play and you lay where you set up, aye
hop out that b+tch with a stick tucked, aye
bro stay mad, i don’t give no f+cks, aye
oh, p+ssy boy go get your bands up, aye
oh, p+ssy boy go get your fans up
make his momma regret that he ran up
know i got the motion like set hut, hey
he play and we dip him like ketchup, aye
[verse 1]
whole gang full of k!llers and steppers and murderers
you gonna be in the grave when it’s finished
i gotta gеt all my opps diminished
i still got some old street beef, it ain’t finished
hе actin’ real ’bout it all up on the net
when we catch his dog ass he gon’ motherf+ckin’ get it
bricks actin’ like patties the way that we flip ’em and send ’em
we into some slimy ass business, aye, aye
he play and get wet up, aye
hop out the truck with a stick tuck, yea, yea
you know we can’t let up
soon as he say some dumb sh+t we gon’ get him, aye
aye, choppa bullets gon’ split him
make his whole family feel bad when we k!ll him
i stay with a drill we gon’ motherf+ckin’ drill him
you know how we get if we say that it’s beef here, aye
if it’s up then it’s stuck
then i’m uppin’ my stick and i’m uppin’ ’bout ten
have him cluckin’ for air like a chicken
leave his mouth dry like a popeyes biscuit, aye
50 shots to his gut he gon’ feel it
leave him out on the curb with his whole chest missin’, aye
choppa bullets have his whole guts drippin’
call up house flippers, get the trap house finished, aye
[chorus]
you play and you lay where you set up, aye
hop out that b+tch with a stick tucked, aye
bro stay mad, i don’t give no f+cks, aye
oh, p+ssy boy go get your bands up, aye
oh, p+ssy boy go get your fans up
make his momma regret that he ran up
know i got the motion like set hut, hey
he play and we dip him like ketchup, aye
[verse 2]
i hit that boy with the stick in my jeans
we hit it and clear out the scene, aye
tweakin’ and geekin’, i’m off of the bean
lil b+tch, yeah, i can’t feel a thing, aye
and i keep that strap in my pants, aye
40 pointer diamonds dance, aye
want him dead, i drop a band, aye
count it, not showing my hand, aye
i’m doin’ all that i can, aye
cookin’ that dope in the pan, aye
i don’t need no middle man, aye
they call me the murda man, aye
we gonna set your ass up, yea
we pullin’ up so you better buck up
i got shooters in the truck, aye
ready to shoot some sh+t up
[chorus]
you play and you lay where you set up, aye
hop out that b+tch with a stick tucked, aye
bro stay mad, i don’t give no f+cks, aye
oh, p+ssy boy go get your bands up, aye
oh, p+ssy boy go get your fans up
make his momma regret that he ran up
know i got the motion like set hut, hey
he play and we dip him like ketchup, aye
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