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inahood - almightysuspect lyrics

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[verse 1: almighty suspect]
n-gga said he gone smoke me b-tch i’m in the hood
big -ss pole on me wish a n-gga would. smoke b-tch it come fo’ free put ’em on a wood, everything froze on me b-tch i’m living good. tell that b-tch don’t say sh-t i ain’t ask u, f-ck and i call her lyft b-tch i’m dat dude i’d hit her best fried too yeah i’m that rude, tell these n-ggas catch up i done p-ssed u. all these n-ggas that i’m with they’ll smoke you, all these b-tches gettin hit i done told u, big -ss. 40s on my hip i’ll blast u, n-gga u a whole -ss b-tch i’ll expose you! i was tryna hit n-ggas blocks they was never out, lil n-gga stay in school take a better route, prayin to the whip with this faith hit a n-gga house, whole lotta juice in my cup like i’m from the south. landlord on a n-gga block i’d kick ’em out, we’ll slide up late night see what u about, b-tch didn’t even see my bed hit er on the couch. i was just tryna get the head out it in her mouth!! all these n-ggas ride d-ck they some h0m-s, i’ll bounce out of the whip with a foe-foe, everything foreign lil b-tch ain’t no low low, everything “fabo” b-tch like i’m “loso” heard n-ggas talkin on the gram like they need that we’ll pop up we don’t give n-ggas feed back, putting hoes down i’m just tryna get my cheese back, blueface hunnits i’m just tryna let my cheese stack. all this gold on me b-tch i’m bust down, all these hoes on me cuz i’m up now, 6 rings 3+3 that’s a touchdown, member she was hot in school she’s a bum now

[verse 2 :ace cino]
b-tch say she gone blow me while i smoke a wood, hunnit dollar steaks with the lobster i be eatin good, when i move to beverly hills ima keep it hood, yeah i’m flossin r. i. p neighborhood. bullets get to hittin like the muf-kin drum kickin, beef with chichi at least 1 dead bum missing, beef with chichi y’all n-ggas better bome with it, this sh-t period so u know i’m bout to run with it. these n-ggas couldn’t stop me if they tried to, slide down a p-ssy n-gga block like the drive through, oh that’s yo b-tch? i been f-ckin like she mine too, who told u u was real? y’all been lied to. i keep packin in a mansion, got a hunnit b-tches dancin, got a hunnit different choppas and a hunnit different hands, got a hunnit different hustles and a hunnit different bands, and they know i’m with the mafia so they just who i am. i know they don’t wanna see us on top, “ball” me chi-diddy cuz u know a n-gga won’t stop, me and suspect makin these b-tches jaw drop, find —- – now i need me a small pop. i’d never change up, burgie(?) is the m-th-f-kin mafia they favorite, the sh-t that these lil n-ggas rap about made up, i’d never throw in the towel n-ggas gave up, couldn’t make a lay up. she make her -ss move when she stand still, bro said i can run it up out in nashville, young blood snort everything but advils, grippin on this b-tch ion need 1 adlib. for the percks i need a dos, pour a drank make a toast, yo b-tch wanna give me throat she gotta eat my b-tch first, i’m the illist on this earth all these tatts f-ck a shirt, real gutta sh-t i really got it out the dirt

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