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die 2 - lud foe lyrics

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[verse 1: lud foe]
it’s just somethin’ ’bout these p-ssy n-ggas i don’t like
you ain’t no cat, you better act like you got one life
i do this sh-t up off the dome, i don’t even write
and i keep one up in the dome, i don’t even fight
i heard you left your mans, that ain’t even right
she wanna take a picture, she gon’ do it for the likes
it’s only sevens and elevens when i roll the dice
i ain’t no role model, i can’t give you no good advice
i buy my own bottles, hard liquors with the ice
i got my own sticks, russian chopper with the knife
i hit my own l!cks, let me run into somethin’ tonight
and if you want a feature, hit my dm for the price
i got my gun, you ain’t got yours, run for your life
these two-two-threes shoot through trees, yeah, they nothin’ nice
she give me head and it’s great, got me runnin’ lights
couldn’t get no sleep in the trap, i had long nights

[chorus: lud foe]
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (that n-gga dead)
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (shoot him in his head)
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (b-tch, ayy)
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (gang, gang)
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (that n-gga dead)
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (shoot him in his head)
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (b-tch, ayy)
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (gang, gang)

[verse 2: mozzy]
one up top, stupid n-gga keep it on him
h-ll gang, take a n-gga’s jesus piece from him
yeah, band duffle make a n-gga’s nose bleed
the bezel on it make a forty look like forty three
hardly get to go to sleep, tryna touch an m
used to dream about ballin’ but couldn’t touch the rim
last year the gangland scored a hundred k!lls
tuck your tail, n-ggas scared, finna run the drill
how i’m ‘posed to leave it when i love the field?
n-gga how i’m ‘posed to leave it when i love the field?
they just gave my lil bruh a hundred years
if that don’t break a n-gga, baby nothin’ will
pull up on his -ss, let a hundred spill
shooter gang, i ain’t tryna be behind the wheel
if he don’t fall victim, we gon’ double back
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to, run it back

[chorus: lud foe]
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (that n-gga dead)
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (shoot him in his head)
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (b-tch, ayy)
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (gang, gang)
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (that n-gga dead)
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (shoot him in his head)
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (b-tch, ayy)
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (gang, gang)

[verse 3: lud foe]
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to
you say you a k!ller n-gga, who you tryna lie to?
yeah i f-cked your b-tch n-gga, i ain’t even try to
big bullets stick to a n-gga like a tattoo, ayy
i’m ridin’ ’round illegal with this felon on me
i heard a p-ssy in the opps, i got ’em tellin’ on me
my trap house got acres, serve you now and later
got fifty in this tec, boy don’t make me violate you
ayy these hollow bullets turn your ribcage to some rib tips
white b-tch with some fake t-ts and some pink lips
compact, tote the small gat with the big clip
talk sh-t, b-tch we make your house do a backflip
p-ssy n-gga want beef, just let me know
plug just sent me a hot potato, had to let it go
don’t put no ring on thot b-tch, just let her ho
hang out the window with this chopper, then let it blow

[chorus: lud foe]
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (that n-gga dead)
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (shoot him in his head)
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (b-tch, ayy)
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (gang, gang)
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (that n-gga dead)
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (shoot him in his head)
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (b-tch, ayy)
this that sh-t that n-ggas die to (gang, gang)

- lud foe lyrics

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