f.t.o - bloodhound lil jeff lyrics
[intro: rell vert]
aight, huh
aight
f*ck the opps free the guys (aight)
free the opps (aight)
yop, yop, yop huh
[verse 1: rell vert]
ridin’ in a fast car this a striker
ridin’ so fast police can’t even bike us
we spank ass that’s why they don’t like us
lost my bro told foenem tighten up
we catch war, opps know we gon strike sum
f*ck first night, ain’t even got to wife nun
bought a new glizzy my team pipped we up
we got bowls ands opps come buy some
rob him, take what? they gon die trying
sonning these hoes these n*ggas is not mine
used to be cool with them n*ggas, they opps now
every that n*gga played, end up popped now
she wanna f*ck cause she see i got guap now
free all the guys that fighting that lockdown
came from the bottom i’m tryna hit top now
score for the gang we callin’ it a touchdown
get that check that b*tch gettin’ bussed down
big ass crib can’t hear my fuss now
jump in that water lil’ boy getting flushed down
i’m with the money, ima run to the bucks now
lost my b*tch i don’t really give a f*ck now
me and folks ran her, she is a bustdown
up that drac that boy gon buck now
give her a perc and watch, she f*ck now
he cuffed up and that b*tch is a bustdown
shoot like dame my team the bucks now
go the mil i’m tryna get bucks now
q50 got the wheel srt looked f*cked now (yuuum)
make one call them n*ggas get touchdowned (huh)
f*cked them n*ggas they dead its us now, uh (its us now)
ay, f*cked them n*ggas they dead its us now
[verse 2: lil jeff]
now its seven n*ggas dead in my city, i’m up now
i heard he went fed, how the f*ck is he back now?
he got caught he was loafin’ his ass got clapped down
now he on the band so he gotta come back out
we slidin’ yall hidin’, tell them n*ggas to pop out (yeah)
big swerve shoot and drive, you know that he rock out
the glock loud, hot out, brush us a touchdown
block be b*tt so bring the thots out
we up dogsh*t bring the knocks out
they say i’m drivin’ to fast lil baby just calm down
keep the foot on the gas and i will not slow down
i ain’t givin’ no past, he lack we smoke him
lay your dumb ass in a pack we smoke him
ima lil too tricky watch how you aproach (loser)
he tried to slide gun jammed and they almost smoked him
keep micro drac, glocks do not tote them
i’m fried outta sp*ce perc got me floatin’
ima real deal clapper, the b*tches know it
ain’t gotta say to much, everyday i show it
fastbreak, layup the backdoor open (it’s open, d*mn)
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