Khris Middleton
[Intro: GlockBoyz TeeJaee & Tye Henney]
Yeah (Yeah)
([?] just went crazy on this)
Got the whole gang in here with me
This shit far, though
Yeah, n***a
Yeah
[Verse 1: Tye Henney & GlockBoyz TeeJaee]
4 a.m., the block still jumpin'
Had to tell brodie calm down, he tryna kill somethin'
Where your ski mask at? This n***a a real brunny
Dealin' off a jigga, I'd kill you for some pill money, n***a
I ain't even tryna talk unless you tryna spread
Fuck your lil' show, I ain't gon' go if I can't get it in
Hit it with a one, then again, that shit still a ten
N***a, for the bucks, I'll play the corner like I'm Middleton
Bitch, fuck a baecation, I got work for sale
I let that pussy burn out more than my clientele (Uh-uh)
It sell fast, got more hitters than the NFL
Thousand-eight grams of fishscale, it might tip the scale
I see them lights, then them headnip
And I got my L bang, I turn to prove my innocence
Eighty-dollar blunts, hit it once and let her finish it
Freaky lil' bitch that got her tongue one on finish him
N***a, once you snitch, you know we canceling your membership
Ain't beefin' 'bout no bitch, too many hoes to be a tender dick
N***as wolfin' on the 'net tryna get a lil' clout
Until we pull up like an ooram be right outside your house
N***a, if you ain't talkin' money, then what the fuck we talkin' 'bout?
Bitch, I don't need no GPS 'cause I already know the route
Drivin' back from down South, 'cause I steer this shit from [?]
Lil' bitch ain't even my bitch, [?] (Come on, GlockBoyz, n***a)
[Verse 2: GlockBoyz TeeJaee]
Yeah, you tryna hang with me, you better grab your gun
I'm the GlockBoy, I'll go outside and shoot n***as for fun, n***a
60K in blues, they thinkin' I'm a Cuz
The chopper, we call this bitch a cut, it'll hit, give you a buzz (Yeah)
Fast cars, fast guns, fast money
I fuck hoes when I be high, they get to actin' like they love me
I'll rob you for your watch, if I was you, I wouldn't trust me
And I run off with your bag, if I pay you, n***a, you lucky (Boy)
Dior, I'ma mix this with the Gucci
If murder was the case, you'd go to jail and probably sing like Lucci
That was your bitch, but she gave me the coochie
I be trippin' without my drugs, I get real moody
N***a, drive-bys, we don't fuck with those, we do walk-ups
Man, you the type of n***a go to jail, you'd probably talk up
I ain't never had no job, we won't let no n***a boss us
I got more hoes in my hood than the city bus
When it get dark, that's when them killers come outside
Move smart, take the plates off, and then you go and slide
You the type of n***a get shot, then go Live
Try to shoot him in his head so I can see what's on his mind
(Yeah)
Yeah (Yeah)
([?] just went crazy on this)
Got the whole gang in here with me
This shit far, though
Yeah, n***a
Yeah
[Verse 1: Tye Henney & GlockBoyz TeeJaee]
4 a.m., the block still jumpin'
Had to tell brodie calm down, he tryna kill somethin'
Where your ski mask at? This n***a a real brunny
Dealin' off a jigga, I'd kill you for some pill money, n***a
I ain't even tryna talk unless you tryna spread
Fuck your lil' show, I ain't gon' go if I can't get it in
Hit it with a one, then again, that shit still a ten
N***a, for the bucks, I'll play the corner like I'm Middleton
Bitch, fuck a baecation, I got work for sale
I let that pussy burn out more than my clientele (Uh-uh)
It sell fast, got more hitters than the NFL
Thousand-eight grams of fishscale, it might tip the scale
I see them lights, then them headnip
And I got my L bang, I turn to prove my innocence
Eighty-dollar blunts, hit it once and let her finish it
Freaky lil' bitch that got her tongue one on finish him
N***a, once you snitch, you know we canceling your membership
Ain't beefin' 'bout no bitch, too many hoes to be a tender dick
N***as wolfin' on the 'net tryna get a lil' clout
Until we pull up like an ooram be right outside your house
N***a, if you ain't talkin' money, then what the fuck we talkin' 'bout?
Bitch, I don't need no GPS 'cause I already know the route
Drivin' back from down South, 'cause I steer this shit from [?]
Lil' bitch ain't even my bitch, [?] (Come on, GlockBoyz, n***a)
[Verse 2: GlockBoyz TeeJaee]
Yeah, you tryna hang with me, you better grab your gun
I'm the GlockBoy, I'll go outside and shoot n***as for fun, n***a
60K in blues, they thinkin' I'm a Cuz
The chopper, we call this bitch a cut, it'll hit, give you a buzz (Yeah)
Fast cars, fast guns, fast money
I fuck hoes when I be high, they get to actin' like they love me
I'll rob you for your watch, if I was you, I wouldn't trust me
And I run off with your bag, if I pay you, n***a, you lucky (Boy)
Dior, I'ma mix this with the Gucci
If murder was the case, you'd go to jail and probably sing like Lucci
That was your bitch, but she gave me the coochie
I be trippin' without my drugs, I get real moody
N***a, drive-bys, we don't fuck with those, we do walk-ups
Man, you the type of n***a go to jail, you'd probably talk up
I ain't never had no job, we won't let no n***a boss us
I got more hoes in my hood than the city bus
When it get dark, that's when them killers come outside
Move smart, take the plates off, and then you go and slide
You the type of n***a get shot, then go Live
Try to shoot him in his head so I can see what's on his mind
(Yeah)