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meet the whoops - fmb dz & unkle dmoney lyrics

[intro: fmb dz]
ayy

[verse 1: fmb dz]
eatin’ lamb chops in the lam’ truck
i got the shooters sittin’ behind me in the ram truck
gotta play it smooth, watch my moves, can’t get jammed up
we got all these n*ggas in they feelings, they can’t stand us
i’ll blow a n*gga down for sk!lla ’cause that’s baby bro
got a hundred stuffed in the chop, we let eighty go
came out the crib light as h*ll today, just know i’m heavy, though
got this rap sh*t in a headlock, this what they pay me for

[verse 2: jay jullio]
i can spot an opp from down the street, cuddy, pull up
my jackboy ain’t throwin’ up gang signs, he put his hood up
gang gang’ll leave anybody if they ain’t with us
blood threw up 55, that’s his way of sayin’, “what up?”
threw the scuddy on the shotty, k!ll for addys, i want molly
n*ggas hoed me when i was down, so when they ask mе, i ain’t got it
if it ain’t the money callin’, i ain’t answerin’ for n0body
pack thе ar in the lam’ ’cause we couldn’t fit ’em in the ‘rari

[verse 3: sada baby]
i got the draco in the oldie, slidin’ in the bubble monte
i ain’t wanna drive the foreign on my way to catch a body
i told dolla pull up with dmoney, he got all the choppers
dz took the pistol from me, we got fl!cked, he got the license, ah
two*time felon, catch another one, then it’s od
huh, tell me if you think that mean i still don’t got one on me
crack a joke ’bout the smoke, we gon’ call that sh*t roast beef
i’m the ghost of the g.o.a.t., call skuba steve kobe, duh
[verse 4: sk!lla baby]
huh? that’s my ape call
i love disrespectin’ ho n*ggas ’cause i hate y’all
i hate when hoes call my phone more than a prank call
i love shootin’ glocks, i ain’t gotta take the safe off
two b*tches, one me ’cause i’m sleazy
my scam n*ggas get the fast money with a deezy (huh?)
bro’ll wipe a n*gga nose if he sneezin’
psych, nah, we ain’t wipin’ sh*t, we gon’ leave him

[verse 5: unkle dmoney]
i be out of bounds, runnin’ plays from out of town
you in the crib, a family guy, i’m in the o with the cleveland brown
money talk, broke n*gga, you ain’t gotta make not a sound
in my face talkin’ ’bout nothin’, i feel like charlie brown
ayy, your b*tch be d*ck suckin’, she play my music when you not around
bad b*tch, but i’m straight, ain’t have the bag and she shot me down
whoop, i’m hip, they ain’t expect for me to turn around
grab a box of ‘woods, bro, close the door, i’m thumbin’ through a pile

[verse 6: kerch dolla]
most of my life, i been ostracized
why they nabbed me for attempt, because n0body died
when i f*ck, kiss her in her mouth ’cause she like saliva
d*ck so big, she can feel it when i’m not inside her
i’m shootin’ pool, n*gga, free 8 ball
i’m in the county, wrote my name on the state wall
got out of jail, run up eighty in my state drawers
i ran into the opps in the club, it’s a face*off
[verse 7: fmb dz]
i been chillin’ for too long, this the get*back
we done got too big for the opps, this a mismatch
caught him sittin’ in the barber chair and push his sh*t back
all that gangster sh*t he was talkin’, he wasn’t with that

[verse 8: sada baby]
press a b*tton while i take my morning sh*t, get you a sh*t bag
my white boy be actin’ like a n*gga, think he riff raff
your people got muscles for no reason, think he timbaland
put the press on his p*ssy ass, he ain’t into that, ah

[verse 9: fmb dz & sada baby]
my n*gga put a dub on his neck, you slappin’ in the hood
these n*ggas ain’t livin’ what they rap, they just rappin’ good
i gotta keep the chopper in the vent, i’m trappin’ in the hood
put a n*gga soul in a grinder, wrap him in a ‘wood
put a n*gga body in a soup just for playin’ with whoop
we’ll put a hundred on your coupe, we got n*ggas spooked
hmm, we’ll put your face in a chain if you play with gang
ain’t n0body show up to the funeral ’cause that n*gga lame, duh

[verse 10: jay jullio]
ain’t n0body tryna play with us, that sh*t obvious
give the opps a gun, they still ain’t hittin’ sh*t like they tried to miss
grab my rod before i leave the crib like i’m tryna fish
if i can’t use the b*tch address, then i ain’t tryna hit
[verse 11: sk!lla baby]
if i can’t use the b*tch p*ssy like a pocket
then i don’t want it, i’d rather get high like a rocket
stuey ain’t scammin’, he opp shoppin’
see a ho n*gga face when we slide, we gon’ punch it

[verse 12: unkle dmoney]
yeah, firin’ up big ‘woods, a bic can’t do it, you gotta use a torch
scam, every punch i throw fire, i’m the human torch
i’m talkin’ fantastic five, skub don’t do the fours
i’m still hittin’ drank, i love my red b*tch, i don’t abuse the ho

[verse 13: kerch dolla]
i can build your self*esteem, then i can sn*tch it all
we clean cards for ten percent, we can max you out
have you ever got burnt off head?
we stay livin’ that one life, don’t give a f*ck who dead

- fmb dz unkle dmoney lyrics

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