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the godfather - charged brothers lyrics

[verse 1: glockboyz teejaee]
pistol poking out my jeans, i’m in public
and i was already in the streets, you wasn’t cussin’, n+gga (bangthatsh+t)
beefin’ with us and still alive, that mean you lucky
they call me glock ’cause i’m a shooter and i got the best jumper, n+gga
forgot to tell you that my pockets bulgin’
it’s time to slide and he ain’t go, you need to drop your brodie
i ain’t drivin’ no b+tch car, look, i am not no jodie
i’m with the gangsters, they almost shot one of the fans, so don’t walk up on me
i’m in a sp+ceship, what the f+ck i look like racin’?
that white girl, it pay my bills, so how the f+ck i’ma be racist?
you be beatin’ on your b+tch, i box the wotk like tank davis
catch him out, say, “what’s up?” then leave his head all on the pavement, n+gga
i rap, do numbеrs, and still’ll catch a b
ridin’ around, fully auto sittin’ on heated seats
n+ggas ain’t еven got no money, but they tryna beef
ain’t got no hoes or no money, you need to sign to me

[verse 2: the godfather]
i ain’t f+ckin’ with them n+ggas, they be h+lla hatin’
i hit his top, he go up like an elevator
don’t let me find you, i’ma k!ll you, n+gga, all for takin’
we ridin’ around with five clips, movie in the makin’
so many shots, we tried to turn his whip into a drop+top
feel like lil wayne how we pull up, make his block hot
n+gga, you ain’t really steppin’, you ain’t got your glock c+cked
he tried to duck, we hit his head before he heard the pop+pop
i’m on the road, finna take a thousand blues to north dakota
take a couple grams out and then refill it with the soda
i told baby j if this n+gga a ham, we gettin’ over
i be high as h+ll, all these dead n+ggas got me chokin’
[verse 3]
bullet hit his brain, look like a hot taki
on the road with that brown, and i ain’t talkin’ fauci
mia like fat dev, you need a spotlight to go and find me
my german b+tch ass fat and her p+ssy fire
you gary in the race, like a snail, you n+ggas slow
makin’ deals with the bag, ain’t sign a deal, this ain’t interscope
you takin’ deals with police, man, them people bold
if my fiend say the work grade a, i’ma hit it more
what you mixin’ in that bowl? this ain’t cake mix
this sh+t got my eyes burnin’ like somebody maced it
you blew all that money, turn to david ruffin, you ain’t say sh+t
if this glock don’t hit your neck, it hit somethin’, know i won’t miss
brodie knocked an opp over, call him checkmate
if you get the packs on the plane, then the rest safe
caught your mans a week later, wish i k!lled him that day
i knew brodie had a shot, he was hoopin’ since the milk crates

- the godfather lyrics

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