otm - beat the blocc lyrics
[intro: blue pesos]
all my n+ggas beat this block down
no [?]
i’ma take his head now, n+gga
to really shot caller
(had to go and run it up like t)
[verse 1: blue pesos]
i’m on demon time, i just left him stretched in his palm angels
one+ten, speedin’, poled up, drag racin’
i don’t trust them, 12 come around, he gon’ freeze up
exotic guns, cream pop sodas and lean cups
she got the fatty, turn around, i’m tryna see somethin’
somebody make some noise, please, ’cause i don’t hear nothin’
who you gettin’ loud with? we don’t fear busters
tell the goons, “beat the block down”, i’m dictatin’
all gas, no brakes, i see crash, watch me switch lanes
drac’, be afraid, yes, i get this from my sensei
punk rock b+tch, you gotta go, you’s a renegade
my neck roll bouncin’, real diamonds, b+tch, tgf
four crash dummies, suicide mission, stunt doubles
you ain’t met the boogeyman? look, b+tch, he in front of you (sh+t)
oh, sh+t, who he with? that’s the grim reaper
call chiefin’ and we out, vroom, hear the ‘ghini
designer guns, designer drip, that’s the stincmeaners
she was gobblin’ on them b+lls, that’s your lil’ baby?
you finna stay the night? why would you assume that?
like every day she wanna party, bro, why you choose that?
tomb raider 2 chops, ayy, bae, hold this blammer
fans tryna take a fl!ck with me, bae, hold the camera
don’t let him act stupid, i for surely brought the fat daddy
it’s your b+tch, why the f+ck she tryna roll for?
he caught the holy ghost, had to bounce out the rolls on him
this a block party, ain’t it friday? double park the rolls
sittin’ on your ass, oh, you mad you don’t got motion
too greedy fam, we got all the plugs and connections
[verse 2: duffy]
b+tch, we got all the ice and all the weapons
pippy and shanaynay, ain’t my b+tch impressive?
i can tell n+ggas really mad, broke, and stressin’
feat a n+gga lit, he don’t wanna test me
i’m on the one+ten, i’m a dough hunter
tell them n+ggas send the drop to me, i’m for sure comin’
mud walkin’ off this juice, i’m in slow motion
n+ggas make it sound good, but they ain’t on nothin’
smoke with me, i’m a hood trophy, i’m a time bomb
finna blow up or we’ll blow a n+gga head off
watch your mouth, lil’ n+gga, this is boss talk
i be troppin’ with the generals, you just crip walk
she ain’t had no money, so i spinned off
bl!cked up, hoodie on, p+ssed off, sh+t
back back, for everybody in here, have a bad night
i ain’t nothin’ like these rap n+ggas, ain’t no fake hype
pull up lookin’ janky, i might take flight
sit him down, now he like a b+tch height
cream soda when i’m mud walkin’, we don’t drink sprite
mei ling could be my main b+tch for the night
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