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hitta - funkmaster flex lyrics

[intro: funk flex]
let’s go

[verse: bobby shmurda]
i go hard in that paint, n*gga
do you stink, n*gga?
f*ck you n*ggas think, n*gga
sh*t, b*tch, i’m gang, n*gga
big wolf*pack, we ain’t, n*gga
ate this tray, n*gga
i don’t even aim, n*gga
hashed his brains, n*gga
left in on the paint, n*gga
f*ck this flame, n*gga
ask my brother fame, n*gga
blow that thing, b*tch, since i was thirteen, n*gga
f*ck you think, these motherf*ckers put me in chains, n*gga?
’cause i’m wildin’, a motherf*ckin’ b*tch*n*gga
ask a snitch*n*gga, how i’ma take out hits, n*gga?
grr, clips at the clips, you know i’m dumpin’ off
it’s .30 on the glock, you know it’s guns involved
it’s .30 on the hood, you know it’s drac’s involved
funny b*tches running away, n*gga, sloppy vault
bunch of ice on my neck, you know, the f*ck you think?
runnin’ ’round with five*hunnid and a f*cking tec
i shot a n*gga last week, on gang, b*tch
they gon’ want to put a n*gga up on chains, b*tch
you know i’m ’bout my motherf*ckin’ paper, what’s up?
.20 got me, homie, and the .30 got you f*cking caught
i don’t even like to play games, n*gga
that’s why i came home and bought a cavе, n*gga
i’m choppin’ b*tches down every day, n*gga
had him flossеd up first day, on the plane, n*gga
icy, like the motherf*cking a, n*gga
i look like i came up off the a, n*gga, woo
but, i ain’t f*cking gucci mane, n*gga
big cripped up, with a motherf*cking bang, n*gga
yeah, i like to stand on top a motherf*cking n*gga
yeah, i’m young and i **** like, “what’s poppin’, n*gga?”
ha, buy a motherf*cking popper, n*gga
ha, i’ma motherf*ckin’ pop a n*gga
ask my motherf*ckin’ mobber, n*gga
shot a bunch of n*ggas, bruh, what the f*ck you claim, n*gga?
she say, “get out with your motherf*cking sneaks, n*gga”
she say, “get out with your motherf*cking crip n*ggas”
ooh, why you know it’s lit, n*gga?
i came home in your b*tch, n*gga, rich n*gga
look, n*gga, b*tch*n*gga
yeah, i’m in the spot with a stick, n*gga, brr
hop out my mama name
shot a n*gga, left him dead, on my mama, gang
this n*gga crazy, boy, i’m on my mama chains
and my neck, you too, and my brother’s clue
what the f*ck you do? i used to move to doobs
i’m talking s*xy ghost, n*gga, every f*cking weekend, i rob him through
go ask—
[outro: funk flex]
you know what it is
funk flex, bobby shmurda, we here, we hot
and on that note, f*ck you

- funkmaster flex lyrics

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