(Wait hol’ up, This ABeats)
(Ain’t that DJ Chose over there? Look like DJ Chose)
Come with that motherf#ckin’ bag, we gon’ get you together
I’ma tell you
On my mama and yours
Ayy Dolo, we shootin’ outside
First grade, was to myself, I never liked to play
Woke up, grabbed the stick like, “Who gon’ die today?”
When it come to murder, I don’t hesitate
I was in that bottom just the other day
You n#gg#s rap ’bout kids, I’m [?], bring out that yellow tape
Put his feet up in the air, that’s what Osama say
Dissin’ on the ‘net, I’m tryna see how many your [?] take
Every time they come around, we treat it like a holiday
Aimin’ for his head, took off a ear, he ain’t listen anyway
I might pop out in your section with my weapon, ain’t no checkin’ in
All the killers give me my respect, they know I get it in
Ain’t nothin’ on this b#tch, I need her mouth, I tell her, “Get it right” (Get it right)
Clutchin’ on my stick all up in class, you can ask FunnyMike
Ain’t gotta rep on bodies, b#tch, I got ’em, if you know you know
Pull up, servin’ n#gg#s door to door, we just like Domino’s
And I know what to do when p#ss# n#gg#s wanna do the most
Heat ’em, just like strippers, drop a bag, they shakin’ by they toes
Like to spend a ten, if I wanna her bad, I’ll prolly spend a dub
Trollin’ on the ‘Gram to get some fame, that n#gg# die for a buzz
Last time we heard him speak, he said he’d come and wipe my nose
They ain’t even cry about that n#gg# since his funeral (Turn me up)
It go grrah, what that switch do
Pick your partner up, he a tissue
It go grrah, what that switch do
Pick your dawg up, he a tissue
Grrah, what that switch do
Pick your dad up, he a tissue (Pick your mans up)
Grrah, what that switch do
Pick your cousin up, he a tissue (Pick your mans up)
It go grrah, what that switch do
Pick your partner up, he a tissue
It go grrah, what that switch do
Pick your dawg up, he a tissue
What you mean, Gucci slippers in here?
Only n#gg# in the penitentiary with the red Gucci slides, man, that ain’t Blood sh#t, man
Wait hold up, man, that’s Gucci’s, man
Come, come with that motherf#ckin’ bag, we gon’ get you together
I’ma tell you
On my mama and yours
From now on, I got hella investments
Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go
War time
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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Fredo Bang Lyrics – War Time