round here (album version) - glokk40spaz lyrics
[intro]
this that trap life, we pull them f*ck yoppas out on sight
and we catching f*ck n*ggas we don’t like
give a f*ck who you is, man, i’ll pull a strap out on a dyk* (huh)
give a f*ck ’bout yo’ rights
we’ll pop a n*gga right at night
do a n*gga broad day, i’ll find out where the n*gga stay
(2wo2imes)
huh, grahh
babylife (purrr)
go (evil)
hundred round wit’ that glock on me get run
gang, yuh (grahh)
grahh, grahh*grahh
[verse]
ebg band gang goin’ for none’
ain’t reloading the clip this a fifty*round drum
don’t even walk in the trap, boy, yo’ ass might be done
got that stick in my bag, that b*tch feel like a ton
when i walk through that flame, man, that sh*t ain’t no fun
we got ar*15s, give a f*ck bout yo’ gun
better get off that block ‘fore y’all n*ggas get spun
put one in the head ’cause she know that i’m not the onе (gang, gang)
lil’ buddy, don’t pop yo’ gun
y’all act like y’all f*ck n*gga shot for some’
ebg gang stuck to the monеy like gum
most of these n*ggas got popped, so i’m seeing redrum (huh, gang)
heard that lil’ buddy got jumped (huh)
i mean, most of these n*ggas got stomped out
don’t hit my block ’cause you don’t know ’bout yo’ where*a*bouts
stick in the cars, it’s bigger than elephant snouts
and i gotta find my way out
’cause these n*ggas be watching me (yeah)
man, i put the fire where my pocket be
nothing about me counterfeit, that’s honesty
n*ggas ain’t got that pistol, how they shot at me?
and i just might hit the b*tch and i mean probably
man, i’m on the f*cking eastside where the shottas be
turn my phone off, why the f*ck is you calling me? (gang)
this that trap life, we pull them f*ck yoppas out on sight
and we catching f*ck n*ggas we don’t like
give a f*ck who you is, man, i’ll pull a strap out on a dyk* (huh)
give a f*ck ’bout yo’ rights
we’ll pop a n*gga right at night
do a n*gga broad day, i’ll find out where the n*gga stay
[chorus]
fell in love with the wood on the drake
i’m finna cook ’em like a steak
shawty a rat ass n*gga, talk to the jakes
i heard he telling state*to*state (huh)
we’ll stomp a f*ck n*gga, ain’t talkin’ no brake
give a f*ck what you made, i made that in a day
we beat the block up then we head back to crystal lake
slit my throat before i talk to the jakes (gang)
[verse 2]
4ch, dropping rakes
ain’t no pocket watchin’ ’cause we get to much cake
i done cop a n*gga, n*ggas tried to flank us
man, this ain’t no rap beef, i’ll shoot yo’ tour bus up (huh)
gotta believe that babylife don’t give a f*ck
that’s the only way y’all both won’t be dust
lil’ buddy got popped, but don’t got no guts
told lil’ baby, “come over, let f*ck”
i want yo’ mouth, ho, i want yo’ tongue
man, i got them young n*gga going dumb
don’t come to my side n*gga, it ain’t fun over here
n*gga get spun over here
n*gga get shot round here
we don’t got no cops ’round here
you fight for yourself or get dropped over there
pass that b*tch to the gang, why the f*ck would i care? (yeah)
f*ck n*gga, why the f*ck would you dare?
let them shots fly, ain’t n0body getting spared
this a glock 9, ain’t got no time for no jail
’cause if i pull the shotty out, then that boy catch a sh*ll
i don’t take ls, how the f*ck can i fail?
and i hate cops ’cause they hate how i smell
put mascottie in the wood, the sh*t you can sail
man, i got these young n*ggas raising h*ll
h*ll nah, ain’t scared of no jail
all white glock, now his ass feel pale
you don’t got no chips so yo’ ass might be staled
you know me and 2wo2imes going dumb
and you know i’m gon’ add attachments on that gun
and i’m throwing up big bs, they must be stunned
don’t come ’round that way, n*gga, you get hung (you get hung)
[outro]
(grrah, grrah)
babylife, come ’round that way n*gga, don’t come round here
n*gga get— n*gga get gunned round here
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