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posse track - lil lamb lyrics

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i’m just playin’ witcha
just a game witcha
i ain’t stayin’ witcha
i just came witcha
throw a b-tch to the side, next
clean myself up with kleenex
hear a boy talkin’ that shit
release the hounds, get your -ss bit
ain’t into no gang shit but that don’t mean that i’ll take it
i’ll stomp a slander’s lights out, i’m ruling holy law on boys who know it all
antihero, robin hood on the suburb streets
when it’s troubles, yeah your b-tch she calls on me
i don’t roll alone but if i do you’d better hope
you’re not the one i’m lookin’ for i’m slangin’ pope
judgement on a sinner, ain’t no beginner i’m a skinner
your scalp is worth a pretty penny to folks a post up in abandos, so many
i’m on a bender
nudes i’ll send her
crew dismembers
check your temper
i can’t remember all that i
know is that an amber alert about to go out
when we show up at your spot, torch the place up
sister missin, momma’s cryin’ and it’s all your fault
if only they knew what kind of sick fuck you are
we won’t hurt her but we ain’t givin’ her back
we won’t rest until your name is stained black

issa posse track
where my posse at
gang gang throw your signs in the drain
issa posse track
put the camera back
and bring that pretty -ss here, where my pussy at
issa posse track

where my posse at
gang gang throw your signs in the drain
issa posse track
put the camera back
and bring that pretty -ss here, where my pussy at

[keelzz]
where my tip though, where my slip though
i might slip in
just kiddin’ but i hit a milli on that shit like weezy
now i’m laid up chillin’ with yo b-tch it’s easy to me
it’s a posse track, where my bleezy at
where my crew though, where my b-tch at
let me hit once, and let the crew smack
like smackdown, but this that raw shit
bet you can’t feel your jaw b-tch, she mollied up
i’m posse’d up what that pussy do
can i try that
can i climax
like curtains closin’ oh
bust it open
now run it back, let me do a lap
yeah run it back, uh bust it open let me do a lap
like phelps ya b-tch, i felt the b-tch
i’m smooth i’m smooth like felt ya b-tch, i felt the b-tch
i’m smooth, like felt ya b-tch
b-tch i’m on the block like tetris
like mail, they expectin’ it
white male, with a necklace

[hook]

[schoolboy richy]
where that pussy at, b-tch this a posse track
naw b-tch we ain’t poppin’ that, nigga all we do is poppin’ tags
nigga out here gettin’ this b-tter nigga
out here nigga, pockets fat as hell, reuben studdard
did i stutter motherfucker
young richster comin’ straight up out the gutter
motherfucker
and i’m trippin’ on the track
in the trap on north and six we servin’ crack
and i’m trippin’ and i’m trippin’ i’m so trippy
oh my god
and your b-tch, in my house and she feelin’ frisky
and i’m off that lean, i’m feelin’ tipsy
and i popped two percs, b-tch i’m feelin’ empty
heard these haters talkin’ shit, b-tch come get it
feel like dex, i ain’t hidin’ i’m in the city
got the xanny bars got the percocets
i don’t give a fuck, b-tch i’m in the six
talkin’ intellect, i ain’t into that
bend it from the back give me all of that

[hook]

[clooner & michael zimmer]
throw these signs down the drain so the deaf don’t see
one big sausage party comin’ out the d
cept my boy in the a
i got my hand on the trigger no i ain’t g-y
ready to fuck, hit my line
i’m a prude boy, i need some b–bs, boy
yo i came with mike to k!ll the mic, pull out the darndest d-ck you’ve ever seen
b-tch i’m fuckin’ mean
i’m comin’ in like i’m fuckin’ clean
cuz i showered first, and i’m comin’ through like i just came out birth
i’m comin’ in and i’m snatchin’ your purse
and i’ma give it back without the money
i ain’t funny, i’m comin’ through and you a dummy
don’t call me names no more
that’s not nice, that’s not right
you’re a piece of garbage
i’m comin’ through and i’m harborin’ mad feelings b-tch

[yung dog]
i remember when my shoes were dvs
now my wrist is vvs
and my rims are bbs
b-tch you work at cvs
i remember when my shoes were dvs
now my wrist is vvs
and my rims are bbs
b-tch you work at cvs
we’re a posse we’re like icp
i pray that clooner get some pussy back home in the d
i remember we were blowin’ out the oz
i remember we were sippin’ out the oe
that was 2017 way back when
b-tch, it’s 2018
i need new bread, i need bleu cheese
yuh yuh, b-tch

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