lean chronicles - leeway lyrics
[intro: leewayy]
(i got so much energy)
okay
come on
otf, n*gga
hey
[verse 1: leewayy]
lately, i’ve been feeling all the hate, what should i do with n*ggas?
feel my fingers touch the pape’, ain’t sh*t to prove to n*ggas
i’m big dog, who let you off the leash? you a poodle, n*gga
no ccw, don’t need a class, just a shooter n*gga
pine*sol, if it’s on the floor, then come move it, n*gga
slime ball, i’ll call lil’ bro to come goo a n*gga
time, dog, if he move to slow, i’m in suit the n*gga
told you how i’m really out my top, i’m a ruthless n*gga
i’m too busy chasing ws, i can’t chase you, b*tch
but don’t forget that i’m the n*gga that made you, b*tch
told my opp, “you a broke p*ssy, i slayed you, b*tch”
[interlude: rio da yung og & leewayy]
d*mn, hold on, hold on, hold on
that’s what you told the n*gga?
yeah, come on, bro, just kick this b*tch back up
[verse 2: leewayy & rio da yung og]
ho, i can’t pop the hood to get the glock, i’ll shakе you, b*tch
or slam your p*ssy ass on the ground, i’ll pave you, b*tch
you don’t know gymnastics with this k, but i’ll make you flip
this purplе that i got from so and so, it’ll make you sh*t (ugh)
honestly, you too honest for me, who made you snitch?
[interlude: rio da yung og]
who? alright, yeah
watch this
[verse 3: rio da yung og]
i wonder if they get the message, i ain’t going broke
ran up d*mn near three hundred racks at that corner store
you could catch me in the hood where you wouldn’t wanna go
or down south, i asked them n*ggas what they get the oranges for
oh, y’all paying eighty*what? i’m finna send a load
matter fact, i’m shooting off right now, b*tch, where you finna go?
after twelve, ain’t no catching sales, b*tch, the kitchen closed
thirty sh*lls will wet him like a whale, they going fishing for him
throw the n*gga in the lake, we treat him like bait
high as f*ck, thought i was finna nut, i peed in her face
casket open, hit him in the chest, i let him keep his face
made sixty racks in six hours, i’m going to sleep at eight
treat his head like a pint of red, we finna bust it open
i know you ain’t finna sn*tch my chain, you see me clutching, don’t you?
.40 bullets like a pedophile, they keep touching on you
how the f*ck it’s beef if we ain’t never dropped a hundred on you?
some northside n*ggas looking for me, i’m at alger’s place
my pockets stuffed with blue huns, you got all the sp*ce
me and diesel going eight for eight, we got all the drank
drop two hundred shots in the crowd and make you crawl away
[outro: rio da yung og]
ghetto boyz sh*t, man
know what the f*ck going on
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