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let it blow - g man lyrics

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[intro]
finna turn this motherf*cker up, y’all know what the f*ck goin’ on
laudiano
look

[chorus]
i ain’t cool with these n*ggas, man, these n*ggas hoes
they not really ’bout a bag, man, these n*ggas broke
i’m fresh as f*ck in this b*tch, yeah, i’m ten*toes
i could’ve hit the b*tch, but i passed her to my bro
don’t run up on me, on god, yeah, i keep a pole
and i’m always to the neck, stacking up my cho
and i don’t need near b*tch and i don’t need near ho
john gotti over him, i’ma let it blow

[verse]
free*free*free my brothers out that cage, they on that level four
big blue scotty woods, yeah, i’m only smoking dope
i’m fresh as f*ck, i got balenciaga on my toe
i served a n*gga for his b*tch, now i’m like, “where my cho, man?”
i turned into a boss when i was seventeen
i was up in school, skipping class, i had to sell my weed
i ain’t had no f*ckin’ handouts, f*ck you n*ggas mean?
if i went broke to eleven, yeah, i’d need my cheese
i hit the b*tch for only one day and left her on scene
fully on it, go and hit that block and clear the whole scene
mbk, when i make it out, i got the whole team
bi*b*tch n*ggas, that’s the hating sh*t that i don’t need
and if they come, i won’t snitch, that’s just not my thing
i’m certified, my big homies is some og’s
rip my uncle, big drugs and that’s on the beat
n*ggas wanna take me, so i’m gripping on this 23
i ain’t going out, they gon’ eat the whole 17
i did it to the neck, i’ma make it, that’s a guarantee
all these b*tches love me, they tell friends they wanna marry me
product of my hood, show my n*ggas how to go and eat
i’ma tell a n*gga how my big homies told me
if you got your f*ckin’ hand out, that’s the wrong thing
can’t f*ck over no b*tch, she a sl*t, she f*ck the whole team
i been goin’ money, ask about me, bet they know me
[chorus]
i ain’t cool with these n*ggas, man, these n*ggas hoes
they not really ’bout a bag, man, these n*ggas broke
i’m fresh as f*ck in this b*tch, yeah, i’m ten*toes
i could’ve hit the b*tch, but i passed her to my bro
don’t run up on me, on god, yeah, i keep a pole
and i’m always to the neck, stacking up my cho
and i don’t need near b*tch and i don’t need near ho
john gotti over him, i’ma let it blow
i*i ain’t cool with these n*ggas, man, these n*ggas hoes
they not really ’bout a bag, man, these n*ggas broke
i’m fresh as f*ck in this b*tch, yeah, i’m ten*toes
i could’ve hit the b*tch, but i passed her to my bro
don’t run up on me, on god, yeah, i keep a pole
and i’m always to the neck, stacking up my cho
and i don’t need near b*tch and i don’t need near ho
john gotti over him, i’ma let it blow

[outro]
laudiano

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