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otm ruger - "freestyle" lyrics

[otm frenchyy]
gggrrrrrrrrr!! it’s that otm sh-t, f-ck n-gga, trapp
ayee ruger

[otm ruger]
waddup b-tch

[otm frenchyy]
man these f-ck n-gga’s sleeping on’em

[otm ruger]
f-ck them n-gga’s

[otm frenchyy]
so we finna wake these f-ck n-gga’s up

[otm ruger]
aye
when i first jumped off the porch i was like 12
them crackas heard bout’ lil ruger hopped right on my trail
they say i’m outchea’ and i’m thuggin’ and i’m causing h-ll
i’m head first like a turtle coming out the sh-ll
in bethel heights, otm that’s where i hang n-gga
where older n-gga’s that be posted selling cane n-gga
where young n-gga’s that be clutching on them things n-gga
you slide through on that f-ck sh-t we up and flame n-gga
young n-gga since a jit thuggin’ in the bricks
got on my d-ck, grab a stick, got to hit a l!ck
hurt as a jit, trynna diss but know he a b-tch
i make him p-ss, put that 40 all up in his sh-t
i’mma go and make a n-gga do the running man
they don’t know that otm just seen a hunnit bands
i swear to god on my momma it was a hunnit grand
my n-gga will told me chill i got the perfect plan
we ran it up, we banned up, now we on the top
i’m on probation but i still keep a 40 glock
these n-gga’s think they poppin’ molly but it’s really flock
i know some buddies that will wack you bout’ a couple rocks
they talkin’ down bout’ lil ruger get your -ss flipped
they talkin’ down bout’ lil frenchyy get you -ss k!lled
that thug sh-t stop pretending that ain’t how you built
go in your sh-t when i see you n-gga off the rip
hit rock bottom i don’t need a b-tch to pick me up
i’m still outchea’ head first chasin’ after them bucks
and every where a n-gga go it’s shooters in the cut
i got a d-ck on a glock it’s bout’ to buss a nut
(f-ck n-gga, d-ck on a 40, stop playin’ n-gga, we apply pressure on these f-ck n-gga’s, trap, trap, trap)

[otm frenchyy]
started rapping when i was a jit, snappin’ like a b-tch
came straight up out them f-cking bricks, a b-tch couldn’t tell me sh-t
my daddy he hustling, he was working like a b-tch
he knew how to make a hundred dollars out of 50 cent
i won’t stop till my heart stop beating down the block
[?]
we don’t talk, we let pistols talk, put’em in your mouth
got some young n-gga’s in ya bushes right outside your house
call up pappy he gone just finesse run’em up a check
f-ck a vest, we don’t shoot for chest we aiming at your neck
money long b-tch we make it stretch like a r-t-rded check
want the money, power, and respect, f-ck whatever left
pending charges got my n-gga stressed they can’t even flex
plugged in like khaled f-ck n-gga we the best
buddy calling for the whole 2 that’s 10 hundred
private room full of bad b-tches gettin’ blunted
f-cked up his b-tch walk like her shoes to tight
d-mn near tried to break the b-tch legs last night
you ain’t never had a young n-gga rush your b-tch
sn-tch her up, bend her over straight f-ck your b-tch
all them in direct post gone have me at your sh-t
waiting for your soft -ss to come up out that sh-t
all that facebook rapping leave that sh-t for the hoes
talking bout’ a lot of sh-t that you ain’t really on
i was raised in the gutter where a lot of n-gga’s died at
posted on the ugly where you got to keep your 9 at
you must not know bout’ me
i got some young n-gga’s will take your cheese
swervin’ hard on the interstate, them crackas coming
crackas trynna slow a n-gga up, i’m getting money
no love for a petty b-tch, i can’t trust’em
on the block thuggin’ late night like its nothing b-tch!!

- otm ruger lyrics

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