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you know the name - glockboyz teejaee lyrics

[intro: glockboyz teejaee]
ayy, n*gga
you know the name, man, you know i got it on me, n*gga
come on, glockboyz, n*gga
you know the vibes, n*gga (j, this sh*t too crazy)
come on

[chorus: glockboyz teejaee]
ayy, you know the name, man, you know i got it on me, n*gga (glockboyz, n*gga)
i’m with the bandgang, you know we got some money with us
ayy, she really out here workin’ for lonnie, they think she gold diggin’ (gold diggin’)
and i can show a b*tch some sh*t, she got more money than her old n*gga (she got more money than her old n*gga)
you know my name, man, you know i got my glock, boy (i got my glock, boy)
when i’m with lonnie, he want your chain, don’t get shot for it (don’t get shot for it)
you know that street sh*t ain’t a game, i call it mycourt (i call it mycourt)
you see, this glock got different modes, i got this b*tch in sport (i got this b*tch in sport)

[verse 1: glockboyz teejaee]
man, i’m the best at this sh*t
i ain’t talkin’ ’bout his watch, lonnie invest in his wrist
n*gga stompin’ on that work, he the best with that kick
i ain’t talking ’bout his girl, but he invest in that b*tch
man, i’m just sayin’, though
money feed the fam and you need fam in case the feds come
man, i go in the booth and go r*t*rded, just be playin’ dumb
n*gga f*ckin’ hoes i never saw in life and call ’em friends, though
they even pull up on me tryna get come get high like they my mans, though
like, sh*t, we d*mn near have a shootout every day (come on)
so many bodies in the city, i think they runnin’ out of tape (come on, ayy)
we can’t be beefin’ with these n*ggas if they g*y (ayy)
i wish he would’ve smoked that n*gga, kinda mad at 9k
[verse 2: bandgang lonnie bands]
i’m kinda mad at myself, i sold a brick in nine days
i’m mad at poody, i’m still traffickin’ on the highway
i’m mad as h*ll they put the chip on the machines, they took the swipe away
boom happy as h*ll, he caught two n*ggas smokin’ in the driveway
hey, my safe look like an inmate number
hey, i call this ar*15 demarcus cousins
i ain’t gotta leave town for an ounce, i get forty*five hundred
hit a country town unannounced, man, them rednecks really love me

[verse 3: rob vicious]
ayy, if we pull up on the opps, ain’t no mistakes
shout out to your b*tch, that b*tch a bop, how my d*ck taste?
this the type of chopper, when you shoot, it make your wrist break
and tell the truth, lil’ bro just took your sh*t, no, it ain’t misplaced
street n*ggas take wins and losses, all part the game
made a million dollars off rappin’ and i stayed the same
your trap stack ain’t at least hundred thousand, then that sh*t change
b*tch, i’m rob vicious, i’m ’bout real as this sh*t came
[verse 4: onfully]
i feel like f*ck the world if you ain’t vibin’ with me
i can’t even keep a b*tch for one day, these hoes be clingy
up this b*tch, it ain’t no pullin’ back, do i look like chingy?
you n*ggas out here gossip like the hoes, worser than the b*tch wendy
when brodie got that f on his belt, ain’t talkin’ fendi
he’ll up that b*tch and pop it, even if you try reachin’
pj tryna score somethin’, n*gga look like ben simmons
since a kid, i knew i want the bag, so i go get it

- glockboyz teejaee lyrics

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