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arturo frias - closerangetea lyrics

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[verse 1]
this choppa don’t like rats it hit you if you try to speak, i’m tripping they don’t like me but i’m who they tryna be, they don’t wanna see me winning they got trouble tryna peep, and i got murder on my mind b*tch i got trouble tryna sleep

make it through the struggle and the pain what the risk about, and i ain’t no b*tch but if we fade i pull that pistol out, hear somebody tripping ima come and stretch the issue out, tell his mama turn the news on and leave the tissues out

it was just “free chubbs” it’s “free sl!ck” now, they gon come and k!ll me if i ever put that stick down, they thought i had a switch up on the back the way i spit rounds, why he try to stand up on thе glock? it made him sit down

all these fakе set claimers always tryna test me, at the same time gang unit tryna arrest me, i don’t got no big homie you won’t ever check me, if i tried to be a square my heater wouldn’t let me

got a demon in this .40 i’ma have to free it, b*tch i’m packing mancini for arturo frias, they say i’m headed to the grave but i don’t never see it, a non packing broke b*tch i could never be it

i’m lost up in my ways feel like i ain’t gon see the light, i’m f*cked up, the judge gave raskal 3*5, got homies in the max that ain’t gon never see the sky, but you can see the sky if you ever meet the .9

say you wanna be my b*tch you gotta wait in line, we spray the guys, so yo homies better stay inside, the homies say i’m tripping needa change my mind, i’d rather paint ya mind, dump the clip and go change the .9

lil chris up in the feds i pray he beat them and the states, sl!ck just came home and i pray he beat the case, i ain’t f*cking with these busters cuz they love to speak to jake’s, i got homies that’ll smoke you, do you bad and leave the states

robbed his jewelry cuz he said that he gon get me gotted, they ain’t never making moves everytime i’m spotted, the homie knew he caught that body and he really fought it, they ain’t really making moves cuz i’m really on it

you ain’t really how you rap you needa really chill, you ain’t really spinning back you needa really k!ll, come and see me if you think that’s how you really feel, shot ya homie cuz he thought that he was really real

got a stick up on the bottom when i’m gripping guns, 7*5 up in the rifle when im spitting drums, he thought that he a demon cuz he sniffing drugs, he ain’t make it to the doctor cuz i split his lungs

the switch up on the back a make him hate a glock, with a drum up on the bottom how i spray the chop, this movie that we made a make him hate his mom, these hollows on me make a surgeon hate his job

these hollows on me make a surgeon hate his job
these hollows on me make a surgeon hate his job

- closerangetea lyrics

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