imposters - baby drill lyrics
[intro]
huh
b*tch, i pull up on my opps more than my f*ckin’ partners (ayy, blackcard, you made this beat? pull up on my opps, n*gga)
b*tch, i pull up on my opps more than my fu— (b*tch, i pull up on my opps, n*gga)
(blackcard on this motherf*cker?)
more than my f*ckin’ partners
[chorus]
b*tch, i pull up on my opps more than my f*ckin’ partners
unknown shooter, they still don’t know who the f*ck shot him
got bodies on bodies, b*tch, i could start a f*ckin’ roster (baby drill)
these n*ggas ain’t nothin’ like baby drill, they some f*ckin’ imposters
[verse 1]
i feel like hitman, point ’em out, b*tch, i can hit the target (drop him)
oh, he the brick man? we kick his door and make him come up off it (baby drill)
f*ck i look like beefing with them n*ggas? i know they ain’t on sh*t (they ain’t on sh*t)
b*tch, i stepped on every gang that was in my way, them n*ggas know that (get out my way)
b*tch, my opp died ’cause he was playing like he was gangster (buh)
b*tch, my opp died ’cause he had started pointing fingers
pull up on ’em, swing the stick and show ’em that i get dangerous (you dig?)
that 7.62 went inside his skull and made him famous (woo)
[chorus]
b*tch, i pull up on my opps more than my f*ckin’ partners
unknown shooter, they still don’t know who the f*ck shot him
got bodies on bodies, b*tch, i could start a f*ckin’ roster (baby drill)
these n*ggas ain’t nothin’ like baby drill, they some f*ckin’ imposters
[verse 2]
put down the glock, picked up the mic, showed ’em i got bars (i’m in the booth)
pick up the glock before i leave, show i’m a shooting star (buh, buh, buh)
my pops had left me for a b*tch, that sh*t made me go hard (f*ck that n*gga)
when i get m’s, my mom got m’s ’cause i’m her only boy (that’s on me, n*gga)
shoutout to feet, shoutout to quan, shoutout to f*ckin’ cho (them my dogs)
shoutout to slime, shoutout to one, shoutout to all the bros (all them n*ggas)
b*tch, i got the gang with me, they wanna see me blow
i be d*mn on go
n*ggas talk ’bout pressure, f*ck the pressure, i don’t smoke them hoes
[chorus]
b*tch, i pull up on my opps more than my f*ckin’ partners
unknown shooter, they still don’t know who the f*ck shot him
got bodies on bodies, b*tch, i could start a f*ckin’ roster (baby drill)
these n*ggas ain’t nothin’ like baby drill, they some f*ckin’ imposters
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