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ola runt - thanksgiving massacre lyrics

[verse]
i was a youngboy, four bullets in my 38
i seen my cousin on a episode of first 48 (johnmoney)
who gon’ hit the stick
drop time, can’t hit a brick
ounce will add up 36
i’mma die trying like 50 cent
woah, my block gotta be shiesty
i’m a real n+gga, ain’t no mama boy, nothing like me
we was shooting movies out in brooklyn just like spike lee
i gave lawyer 50, don’t let ’em indict me
bag on his head with no paper trail
my n+gga need commissary, so i just pay the jail
free my n+gga heavyd, he had me taking mail
i was locked up putting sh+t on the do’, i might take ya cell
i was trapping in the nine
we came from the six
born in 96′
sixty thousand, two bricks
went bad on two l!cks
sh+t bad, smell like thе trash
like some charmin, on yo’ ass
i got glasses on my mask
rеal blood all on my flag
357 glizzy
hot box drop+top, finna get busy
dodge stanley with the tag from philly
four door jeep with the window tinted
stick on me
30 clip, i got a d+ck on me
big dog, i got ya b+tch on me
friend turn opp, they switch on me
finna pop it off
spin yo block three times
they like, “ola, please knock it off”
sweet l!ck in the sour sauce
hundred round that’s a real applause
six shots, i got in a revolver
dad trap, but grandad a robber
seen a hundred thousand, i was a toddler
no, can’t cuff that ho’
that might be the setup
let ’em know just how you set up
before i go i’mma hold my tec up
real sick, i’mma need my checkup
took ’em loses so i pulled my desk up
sleepin’ on me, tell them f+ck n+ggas rest up
i got some extra bullets in my dresser
i need some energy for my tesla
i don’t need gas money, it’s electric
i’m with trained shooters, they veterans
buddy a cowboy like texas
push the b+tton, you’ll die if i text it
take off yo’ head and it come with a necklace
caught a vibe and it came with a bestie
you a rat, prolly put you on trustee
and that’s facts
take ’em down
soon as he get up, he get wacked
when i draw down
just please don’t scare me, i’m gon’ blast
i’mma keep the sh+ll
shoot the stick right through a bag
k!ll you while you nap
rob you while you trap
slap him if he clap
strip ’em then pop ’em
he gangster then top him
try to run then chop him
wanna fight? i wanna shoot it
round 1, i pull out my gun
round 2, you better run
round 3, he begging, “please”
round 4, he screaming, “stop”
round 5, that’s when he drop
thanksgiving massacre
kidnap, go capture them
send a hit, go after him
want smoke, we match with them
jump in that water, it’s adult swim
jump in that water, let’s play “sharks in the middle”
you a p+ssy talking to a rat, stuart little
i’m in new york city with that white boy, home alone
when zaza tear, five thousand a bag
it’s super strong no cap
how you say you having clientele with no trap?
i’m on the fronstreet with that clean, it’s a nose trap
boston george, blow trap
burglar bar door trap
bag it up and go trap
fast money, no slow trap
i just talked to baba he told me, “inshallah”
my mama proud of me, ’cause i used to be stealing cars
my daddy told me f+ck that sh+t, forever selling hard
with my grandma see the sh+t
pick up, you can’t see my stick
rain+boot dripping when i kick
step on him, he died a b+tch
these n+ggas wasn’t raised right
these n+ggas ain’t real, right?
nightmare, it’s a k!ll night
down bad, it’s a dril night
catching plays, jerry rice
i’m on the pj, but i’m scared of heights
all my n+ggas demons, it’s a devil fight
send my opps to the morgue, its a shovel night
i woulda died in atlanta, new york a better life
(i moved) (woah) (yeah) (got in my groove)

- ola runt lyrics

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