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the black squad - make em say lyrics

[verse 1: charlie clips]
you suited and get tied up, n-gga stay out my business
mess with ours, you gettin’ your head shot in a minute
times square, born and raised, 142nd and lennox
this the place where the beef between cam and ma$e never finished
yeah, that old harlem, yeah that old dipset
your baby moms feelin’ all freaky, i got her lips wet
don’t make me go in jones with the blood, i’m talkin’ big set
your jewels get sn-tched on cam, they like the grip text
my little brother woke me up and said he want an audemar
call me like maryland ’cause sh-t i walked in and bought ’em all
you ain’t gettin’ chicken? what you always talkin’ foreigns for?
little -ss nuggets n-gga, what’s that a four for four?
wendys -ss n-gga, mcdonalds slash friendlys -ss n-gga
ihop slash dennys -ss n-gga
brought slippers ’cause you can’t afford no pennys -ss n-gga
weight loss, pockets lookin’ all skinny -ss n-gga

[verse 2: hitman holla]
man a lot of n-ggas mad at holla, and i know why
because i go right at they necks n-gga, bow tie
i’m somethin’ like that wild’n out gang boy, i’m so fly
my new b-tch hawaiian, when you speak, say aloha
my man don’t like you, neither do me, no lie
just the way in life, and those the rules that i go by
he ain’t tough, them drugs talkin’, that n-gga so high
your girlfriend straight with you, with me i bet she go bi
cable, n-ggas think i’m sweet on the screen
i jump out of that tv, i’m like that b-tch from the ring
so many straps, lesbians try to skip on my team
money moves, won’t slow down if you slip me some lean
mean, i hit all ’em, p-ss ’em off, i chris paul ’em
all red, but my homie a crip walker
sh-t talker, bark on ’em, big dog ’em
big baller, sh-t i can be lamelo father

[verse 3: conceited]
y’all trippin’, okay i see y’all n-ggas b-tchin’
i slide the clip in, like boonk i’ll get to quickly spittin’
y’all always act like y’all got it, i never see the chicken
i know y’all joint is the lowest, i call y’all peter griffin
my team is winnin’, you know my loot is higher
pockets so deep, my accountant is a scuba diver
now who is flyer? look at the wrist though
the price of the chain lookin’ like a zip code
she a nympho, gas her like we at citgo
she’ll t-t show and go right inside of the six-four
ain’t nothin’ to see after me, b-tch i’m the big show
but you can see me on tv wildin’ with nick though
okay though, you say the price, i bet i pay though
i got that eight-oh, a body on it like it’s j-lo
black squad is a hundred, that’s what we make today though
that’s all we do, in that sour cream like a baked potato
ayy yo, what you got in pockets?
flash your cash around me, you know you gotta stop it
my trigger finger really itchy, know i gotta pop it
and then i skate off with the trey like i met johnny rocket

[interlude: nick cannon]
yo, yo, yo, hold the f-ck on man
i need that hard no limit sh-t
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
f-ck them other n-ggas, black squad them my n-ggas
yeah, okay, we ’bout to work
f-ck them other n-ggas, black squad them my n-ggas
ride for my n-ggas, i’ll die for my n-ggas

[verse 4: nick cannon]
yo i’m down for ncredible, ridin’ for the cause
so many b-tches on my d-ck, it’s reservations on my b-lls
and if anybody f-ck with any of my broads
just let them n-ggas know she still reppin’ for the squad
f-ck her when i want then send her back to y’all
now you all on instagram, pictures on the wall
dog you kissin’ in the face, n-gga how my d-ck taste?
know you hate the way i p-ssed her, i’m the new ma$e
with the old diddy bop and the smooth harlem shake
pretty boy smile with the ooh baby face
the way the whip appear, don’t let that fly sh-t fool you
i got the type of fire that’ll fly straight through you
side to side, you gon’ die together, two of you
have you pushin’ up petunias like i never knew you
put you on the news like a tornado movement
warning, call your mother six in the morning
get a black dress, she finna be mourning
fixing your body, visiting the mourge and
praising the lord and discovering your organs
i’m divorced now, free man like morgan
so f-ck them other b-tches, i need some more b-tches
f-ck them other b-tches, i need some more b-tches
f-ck them other b-tches, i need some more b-tches
i’d ride for my b-tches, i’d die for my b-tches, yup

- the black squad lyrics

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