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nr3 - dead rappers lyrics

[intro: ot7 quanny and nr boor]
n+gga, what you want
we just bought a glock with a switch and a drum
and a beam and a drum and a beam on it
yeah, n+gga, what

[verse 1: ot7 quanny]
yeah my pocket look like stewie
yeah my jacket louie (no bap)
young n+ggas, yeah we ruthless, pull up and we shootin (no cap)
you got n+ggas turnt up, you gon make him catch a body through these headphones
you got n+ggas turnt up, you gon make him catch a body through these headphones
how you tellin on your brothers? boy you dead wrong
we gon k!ll a opp and go p+ss on his headstone
n+gga make a diss track, he a dead rapper
why you act like we ain’t the reason you got ya mans tatted?
“why you keep on doin dirt?” they say crime pays
north n+gga, flip phone, thick his pockets rod wave
i only want the head, ya panties they ain’t comin off
fn bullets make that n+gga do a somersault (big flips)
and this sh+t off the top, don’t need no pen and pad
lil quanny from the trenches, my mom like my dad
we make n+ggas jump the fence when them shots fly
hold up that boy want smoke, fry em like he popeyes
yeah this glock got a beam, this b+tch got eyes
you want smoke with them steppas, n+gga uh uh
sippin on this wock, sh+t i’m movin like a popeye
n+gga you a p+ssy and ya man a rat, y’all tom and jerry
when it’s time to slide, n0body ride, you n+ggas scary
him and him, different bodies, brodie this sh+t vary
him and him, different bodies, brodie this sh+t vary
n+ggas b+tches, man you n+ggas act like tyler perry
n+ggas b+tches, man you n+ggas act like tyler perry
him and him and him
hold up (smoked his ass, n+gga)
[verse 2: nr boor]
yeah, we just filled a clip with rip’s
we just put a 50 in the glizzy, make a scene
we tryna catch a new opp, make that n+gga bleed
give that boy a headshot, uh, put that n+gga to sleep
we don’t do no hidin out, my n+gga we out all night
hit that n+gga top and send his soul up like a f+ckin kite
brodie off a pill, he tryna k!ll, i tell em “not tonight”
we turned down a deal, it ain’t bout m’s then what you talkin bout?
we just tryna chill, if she ain’t f+ckin then she gettin out
woah, what’s all that dissin bout?
man he crippled now
brodie caught a case and he came home and put that pistol down
we get busy now, ain’t no b+tchin out
she sucked this d+ck up, ate my kids it ain’t no kissin now
ain’t no kissin now
we get busy now, ain’t no b+tchin out
caught a case and he came home and put that pistol down

- nr3 lyrics

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