no autotune ii - guwop lyrics
verse
roll me a wood, yeah b*tch we smoke out the pound, almost had me a heart attack
back in the day i ain’t care about sh*t, rolling up to the joint with a party pack
i need the green like peter pan
f*ck boy tryna jugg for a gram
pop out the cut, like hemorrhage, up it, blast it, (poof), deceased ya mans
touch down with the pack: calvin ridley jr.,
why everyone capping, like they getting to it?
like who is you scamming if you rocking puma?
that sh*t dont add up, guess you need you a tutor
i need my money, the cash overdue
you flexing, but can’t afford a ride to school
you thought you was playing me, just like a flute?
well you catching bullets: mohamed sanu
40 glock open his ass, like a flip phone
i’m in that box, with the rocks, like it’s flintstone
i get the pack, flipped, sold, hunnids blue, call them hoes cripped on
fire up a wood and it gave me a splinter
i just bought a pound, if you reach, imma k!ller
these mario sh*lls go banana, and peel him
these .762’s roll him up in a swisher
bro was still mad that he cuffed on a thot
i think he mad cause she built like a box
ole fedex ass, mail truck built b*tch, and you still ain’t get topped?
nose still hurting, she musty as f*ck
she beat up yo ass? cause she prolly got nuts
(hollup who is you talking bout)
harambe thot, that’s wearing a cup
don’t get it f*cked, i will stand on my sh*t
i dropped the cap, i dont shop at lids
you at the playground playing with b*lls?
illegal weapons, i play wit a bl!ck
factory sh*t, i walk round with a steel
these bullets fly faster than tyreek hill
(huh), roxy, (huh), molly, (huh), forty pop you, just like it was a pill
cervical surgery, giving me neck
you get it, you getting the same, with a check
you stay on computers, like itt tech
i can’t stop firing, my glock got tourette’s
nicotine forty, i light up his body, like smoking
i’m blowing out one of his lungs
i’m on they heads, like the cap, or a hoodie, or hollow points rushing up out of this gun
felony shots, like a hit and run
shoot in the air, then you brick, and “none,”
i’m making plays, like john calipari
you ain’t in the field, like a bench, or sum
you broke as the f*ck, like an ice cream machine
pockets thin: extension cord
i know that you hurt cause you think she a queen, but she really built like a mr., wh0re
i don’t need a gang, i do it alone
the opps catching bullets, like julio jones
32 shots in this .40, i swear on my fam if you move, then they ripping yo dome
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