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pressa - o.t.m (out the mud) lyrics

[chorus]
don’t let me get it out the mud and throw it in his face
his biggest record ain’t even better than my throwaways
i sell a record but i could really sell anything
car get riddled diddle-dah bullets riddlin’
bullets riddlin’, sh-t hot yeah it’s crazy
bullets riddlin’, bullets hot yeah they blazin’
bullets hit his back, run ricky but we chase him
they used to call me rico now i’m servin’ crack to jason
whoa!

[verse 1]
i’m with the gang and all i know is f-ck the rest
i know n-ggas catch a body like its somethin’ off their chest
i know n-ggas servin’ junkies, now he walkin off the edge
it’s so hard to cl!ck over when my n-ggas call collect
they keep cuttin’ out the threeway
question him for three days
homicides get beat, aye
they promise he ain’t leavin’
lawyer with no brief case
and he walk out the station
smilin’ like a demon

[verse 2]
i wanna live good
if i don’t know the business then i go read the book
my n-gga yeah he stuck ain’t no leavin’ the hood
condo next to the hood
i drop a hit now i’m ready to book (whoa!)
you see i’m sick i got a w-ssa disease (whoa!)
he get shot and now he washed and deceased (whoa!)
w, so we double the v (whoa!)
homicide, this ain’t regular d’s
i came off of thirty-six o’s
you see, the police tryna hang me with ropes
i went to hunnid from o
i met some n-ggas that play wit’ their nose
i got some dawgs but don’t play wit’ a bone
yeah you know how it go

- pressa lyrics

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