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z (of firing squad) - witta sack lyrics

[intro: z]
the way i’m moving
give me a little weight and strap
ya know

[chorus: z]
maneuver through the gutter with a strap
maneuver through the gutter with a sack

[bridge: z]
you gotta understand that’s what’s rap sh+t
i was the same motherf+cking person
c’mon

[verse 1: z]
i was whipping in the plymouth like a porsche
house speakers in the trunk, grabbing 40s from the store
tipping around the corner doing 50 like the laws
on my ass, then i pause put the fire to the dro
cause i’ve been rhyming about my life, than the i+5
anything else it probably gеt felt cause i don’t know
tell mе them motherf+ckers couldn’t see me when i was dead broke
but tell me them motherf+ckers couldn’t hear me till i let go
inside my mind i’m flipping like he know dro
i’m on the block trynna guap holding no chrome
so i be watching for awkwardness, open the door, blow
and if it do i’m grabbing this shake and looking to poke holes
g+ngb+ngers are meth smokers you know home
real homies are fake, phonies y’all know though
punish the block, most is late like i’m still home
mu’f+ckers grown but that’s the box for the zone though (let’s get it)
then hit the mic like i’m addicted to the drama
cause like i said, i was sicking with the dumb folk
looking up at the bread, father trick us with the dumb dome
jumping up in the innards till she tripping when the cum gone (uhh)
i ain’t never wanna be that motherf+cker broke
sleeping on yo couch even though momma said “come home”
but now we living for the music, you confuse it
bummy knowing what i’m doing, doesn’t seeming like enough though
so i was flipping it, i think i gave a palm, so i make you bow yo head
the centric cali make the funds go
living on the reds in tri+town with the dundro
motherf+ckers know about z it’s all love though
i ain’t even gotta prove what i have been through
i slap palms from the east to the west coast
cuff a bomb, break it down then i let it go
car slapping to the tape y’all the petrol
[pre+chorus: z]
tripping about my body when i’m flowing in the henny
get you stomping through the gutter with some blood up on my face
tripping about my body when i’m flowing in the henny
get you stomping through the gutter with some blood up on my face

[chorus: z]
maneuver through the gutter with a sack, sack
maneuver through the gutter with a sack
maneuver through the gutter with a sack, sack
maneuver through the gutter with a sack
maneuver through the gutter with a sack, sack
maneuver through the gutter with a sack
maneuver through the gutter with a strap, strap
maneuver through the gutter with a strap

[verse 2: z]
get the f+ck up outta my face
so devise you’ll be thinking over on your down+talk
a trip to the pagan’s not thinking over
keep around me or bring it up
swinging a rich, and i break it down
time is family and already gonna need a cover
bumper to bumper where the traffic go, we squeeze it up
but some of us dramatic and are savage as a mu’f+cka
lacked on the truth cause my fam more than hundred
having bodies in the bunker, and eighth in the dumpster (i couldn’t give a f+ck)
i just slept in the cuddy in the valley and took showers in the sink in the park by the gutter (legit though)
a b+tch in the car half+start while i f+ck her
0+5 will go fuller cause we going through the thumper
hit the booth without shots four weeks straight (ugh)
smoking stress no sigh for the weed brakes (d+mn)
d+ckeys pressed, dripping sweat when the heat bake (ooh)
laugh stock a relay on the block put your kjs (d+lo)
little youngsters on the rez with the aks
i ain’t know gunplay until the tenth grade
used to swing and get ass whoopers and beat up
but that eventually teach us how a man’s supposed to stand straight (right?)
no b+tch in my blood, sh+t mandate
walking around pencil stacks in my handshake (i need this money)
smoking ramens a mile
looking to vomit ’til face
looking like i was chuck taylors or the landscape (yo)
pigeon sacks why i reached for a fanbase
so bars see money or the money see bars straight (get it)
hard eighth with a car full of scarface
trynna ball life when we all went a hard day (d+mn)
partake in the dark in a dark place
try to frame cause i’m born with a dark frame (ooh)
sparking strange all day where the bars bang
wasn’t thinking tri+skate where the cars shake (skrr)
[pre+chorus: z]
tripping about my body when i’m flowing in the henny
get you stomping through the gutter with some blood up on my face
(blood up on my face. blood up on my face, face, face)
tripping about my body when i’m flowing in the henny
get you stomping through the gutter with some blood up on my face

- z of firing squad lyrics

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