lamb trucks - doe boy lyrics
[intro:]
doe beezy
doe beezy (oh sh*t)
f*ckin’ burnt, just go crazy then
run forrest, run forrest, run, yeah (let’s go, hold on, yeah, yeah)
[verse:]
went from mini vans, now it’s lamb’ trucks (skrrt)
a pistol makes a p*ssy put his hands up (boom, boom, boom)
we drop bodies and run bands up, the opps can’t stand us
i left to the bank so much might need to go do stand up
hahaha, these n*gga’s comedy, they say they robbin’ me
rich as f*ck still go to the hood and post up where the drama be
and when i leave the hood, i pull up where your baby mama be
come here, baby (come here, baby) (muah)
let’s go (come hеre, baby)
put that sh*t on, spent five racks just on fashion
broski twеak out in the club, he spent like twenty racks on dances
diamonds dancin’ they look so romantic, look how they be flashin’
f*ck your diss i ain’t with that rappin’
i’ll up this bl!ck and make you choke like you be rabid (oh, really)
uh, million dollars later, b*tch, i’m havin’
play with me you open them doors, b*tch, this bl!ck gon’ close your casket
i ain’t with that lackin’ big doe beezy need that ratchet
they don’t want no beef, these n*ggas sweet like easter baskets
opps ain’t puttin’ no points up on the board, they need a basket
hit the club, section full of shooters and some bad sh*t (come here, baby)
make him run that light, i’ll catch his p*ssy ass in traffic
(put your b*tch ass up, you still gonna die when we catch you) oh, really
[chorus:]
when you get caught you know what’s goin’ on (what’s goin’ on)
finna load the gang with switches, b*tch, you know it’s home (b*tch, you know it’s home)
i rock gucci head to toe, b*tch, i put it on (gucci)
these n*ggas from the city is hoes, i be puttin’ on (oh, really)
kick your door then i run up on ya, bust your dome
i get in it, mr. vlone with the chrome
ask about doe beezy, b*tch, that n*gga cold
yeah (oh, really)
[verse 2:]
it’s so cold, icy, icy, it’s so pricy
walk down euclid ave, just look left, don’t look on knowles, b*tch, that’s not the right street
walk in a opps party like five deep
you can’t fight me, p*ssy, fight this pipe, bleed (boom, boom, boom, boom)
eight hundred on dior, but this b*tch just a white tee
these n*ggas scared of me, that’s why they don’t like me
i just wanted the homie, they pulled up, hit like three
you ain’t shot n0body, b*tch, you ain’t nothin’ like me
i apologize if i ever robbed or shot at you (sike)
alright, i’m lyin’, f*ck you and him too (oh, really)
f*ck i look like boxin’ you, my young n*ggas’ll box you
chanel bag on your head, b*tch, i copped you (come here, baby)
like my hoes, n*gga
[chorus:]
when you get caught you know what’s goin’ on (what’s goin’ on)
finna load the gang with switches, b*tch, you know it’s home (b*tch, you know it’s home)
i rock gucci head to toe, b*tch, i put it on (gucci)
these n*ggas from the city is hoes, i be puttin’ on (oh, really)
kick your door then i run up on ya, bust your dome
i get in it, mr. vlone with the chrome
ask about doe beezy, b*tch, that n*gga cold
uh, yeah (oh, really)
[outro:]
run forrest, run forrest, run
run forrest, run forrest, run (yeah)
run forrest, run forrest, run
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