(Aye, yall got some Hennessey over there!?)
Shake hands, aye
({?} tell me- tell me where my headphones when I get in my {?}, im in that b#tch)
(Right here, we’re bout to separate, the real n#gg#s from you all b#tch #ss n#gg#s mane)
{
He turned into a murderer, you see it in him eyes
Death around the corner, he try to get he all the time
But him ain’t never slippin’, he gon’ quickly get to firin’
Run up on him trippin’, you gon’ get hit with that iron
I ain’t trippin’, b#tch its up with me
Tell em make em bust for me
Jump out with that stick, nd’ let it spit until you go to sleep
{?}, rollin’ up some purple leaves
{?} be zooted, on the couch he boutta go to sleep
But imma wake him up when its game time, b#tch imma bang mine
I don’t know nothin’ bout how the slang line, nd’ my {?}
Imma get nasty with the {?} off the Glock 9
Nd’ I {?} paint his face read, like a stop sign
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