comin in - dqfrmdao lyrics
[intro]
(protegebeatz)
b*tch, we comin’ in (comin’ in, ayy)
[verse]
jump out, think you runnin’ quick (jump out), hit yo’ block we comin’ in (skrrt)
better run, you better hide, i swear we outside stretchin’ sh*t (grrah)
run you down, we blitz and pop yo’ ass with all kind of gins
i swear it ain’t no missin’ (i swear, nuh*uh), bet these p*ssies just know how we get
my shorty, he be with me, big ass pistol, his sh*t catch a glitch (my shorties)
free my n*gga jigga, he r*t*rded, broski keep a [?]
bsg, no talkin’, n*ggas barkin’, then we spin your sh*t
n*ggas must of lost it, b*tch, we violent like the taliban (what? what?)
we spazzin’, we wildin’, b*tch, promotin’ violence
caught that lil’ boy loafin’, call that sh*t (call him), yeah, that’s that perfect timin’ (grrah, grrah)
yeah, this ice around my neck be dancin’, yo’ sh*t got no power
me and [?] be drip, we fresh as h*ll (we fresh), b*tch, we ain’t go no stylist (nuh*uh)
reese thankin’ huncho (he thank huncho), they knock down sh*t, call them twin towers
i swear i hate a b*tch that think she so bad, swear that p*ssy sour (them b*tches try me)
all the hoes be on me (they on me), i’m just chasin’ bread, chase that for hours
you know how steve naster, straight past her, hey bro what’s to that knowledge (you know i past her)
flrr, flrr, when the switches hit your block (them b*tches comin’), i swear you better run (you better, you better), or we gon’ see your ass up top
grrah, grrah, that’s that chopper (grrah), i swear that b*tch shoot far (gon’ get you) and if it hit your heart (gon’ hit you), i promise you won’t see tomorrow (b*tch)
b*tch, i’m dq, when i shoot, my n*gga shooter too (dq, grrah)
if we spot that boy, you know our name, we jumpin’ out the coupe (we got him, come here)
caught that lil’ boy loafin’ (caught him loafin’), dissin’ jaydo, split his ass in two
long live tuhar, they couldn’t take him out, lil’ bro was out here ruthless (tuhar, tuhar)
if you lookin’ for me, b*tch, i’m posted on the drive (king drive), where it’s live, don’t shoot nines (you know that), we shoot forties and four*fives (boom*boom, boom)
and i know a n*gga made a song called “slide”, they don’t slide (nuh*uh)
they just hide, on the other side, boy, them b*tches dyin’ (they all some b*tch)
pop a 30 off the drank, i swear i’m high up out my mind (i’m wind, up on it)
but don’t think i’m ever slippin’ (nuh*uh, you won’t), promise you gon’ waste your time
[outro]
o’block
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