Yeah
It's spooky
Way too spooky, niggas
Yeah, uh
Look
Yeah

Everywhere I go, I got it on me, nigga (I got it right now)
And I ain't lettin' shit slide (I ain't lettin' that shit ride, nigga)
Go head and try me if you want, nigga (what's poppin'?)
I'll let this fuckin' clip fly (doot-doot-doot)
GxF to the death, nigga (Griselda)
And I'll never switch sides (this shit for life, homie, that's my word)
You know how we play it over here, nigga (you know what's up, pussy)
We get it poppin' on this side (this side, brrt)

Lock (lock), load (load)
Lock (lock), load (load, you know what's up, nigga)
Lock (lock), load (load)
Lock (lock), load (load)

You can go and ask them other niggas, they'll tell you what's up
I already been through there and hit one of them niggas up (doot-doot-doot-doot-doot)
Mama start thinkin' I'm crazy, baby mama think I'm nuts
Ever since them niggas shot me, I just stopped givin' a fuck (ha)
I'm losin' my marbles, lettin' that AR go
Fifty shot sticks'll do you niggas somethin' horrible (brrt)
Two-sixty on the digi' dash, look how fast my car go (vroom)
Talk about my face but can't say shit about my bars though
Have my shooter snort a few grams, kick his door for the yams (ha)
While I'm smokin' Kush with a bitch I just imported from France (cash)
Rockin' Bathing Ape shit that I just bought in Japan (woo)
I get to trippin', get the blick and this AR in my hands (brrt-brrt-brrt)
Every bullet in the cartridges land
The stick look like a guitar in my hands
Drummin' like I'm part of a band (woo)
My dog was behind the wall with your man (ha)
I heard you got friendly extorted in the can, you thought I was playin' (brrt)

Everywhere I go, I got it on me, nigga (cash)
And I ain't lettin' shit slide (I ain't lettin' that shit ride, nigga)
Go head and try me if you want, nigga (what up, nigga?)
I'll let this fuckin' clip fly (that's my word, nigga, run up and see what's good)
GxF to the death, nigga (Griselda, nigga)
And I'll never switch sides (this shit for life, homie)
You know how we play it over here, nigga (you know what's up, pussy)
We get it poppin' on this side (brrt)

Lock (lock, talk to 'em), load (load, this that real, nigga))
Lock (lock, this that real, nigga), load (load)
Lock (lock, gangster shit, nigga), load (load, all my shooters lock and load, nigga)
Lock (lock), load (brrt, yeah)

SP, DrumWork shit (yeah)
211s, no turnin' to 187s (uh)

That black and grey checker hold the heckler (haha)
Your vest obsolete when you squeeze from the neck up
M-16 equipped with inf
Feel I feel like Tony squintin'
Readin' the blimp
The world is yours Chico, uh-huh
The art of war is lethal
Never cease it if the score is equal (nah)
I kill 'em all dead (all dead)
Run in they spot paint the walls red (walls red)
Glock .40 for the bald heads (bald heads)
Sometimes I feel like a hypocrite (why?)
I kill a nigga
Make this all off a tour, but then it's back to the wicked shit (ah)
Yeah, like I'm in tune with my djinn
A horror flick when I spit without usin' a pen (grrt)
Dance with the devil, the death call
I'm out the Buff with the slanted face killer with Bells Pals'
Call our bluff, get stuffed in a can or wood coffin
Or get clipped when that clip with the switch to lift off (brrt, grrt)

Lock (lock), load (load)
Lock (lock), load (load)
Lock (lock), load (load)
Lock (lock), load (load)

Yeah
Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom
Doot-doot-doot-doot
Brrt
Yeah

Copyright: RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC, Royalty Network, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): Desmond Price, Dwight Grant, Eliot Dubock, Thomas Paldino