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voodoo (freestyle) - malc deezy lyrics

[intro]
marvinbeats
f*ck with draco, you could run it on back streets

[verse 1: c glizzy]
watch yours, cross your t**th, toe tags and body bags
all we did was come up, tell me why they f*ckin’ mad
creepin’ through your backdoor, prolly while you sleepin’
know what it is, b*tch, it’s jack boy season
one, two, three, uh, no opps in here
all my n*ggas with it, yeah, they got choppers and sticks, uh
one, two, three, uh, four, five, six, uh
all my n*ggas with it, they got them choppers and sticks, uh
ten glocks in the party
eleven n*ggas with me, yeah, we like to party
twelve n*ggas with me, they gon’ put you in your sh*t, uh
thirteen, that’s the clip, but extension, that’s the d*ck, uh
i was ridin’ with my n*ggas, ridin’ in the stolo
and i like that nine but i don’t f*ck with tony romo
i was wearin’ the glock, yeah, i had my n*ggas with mе
f*ck a hundred, keep it a buck fifty
baby, if you with me, let mе know, is you ridin’?
this a freestyle so i’m still f*ckin’ slidin’
already know lil’ thot, baby, i be glidin’
uh, uh, yeah, know i be glidin’
cottonmouth in that booth to my left
got a bad b*tch, she left lookin’ like a f
already know, b*tch, don’t care about myself
i’ma, uh, with a, ah, and that, ooh, ooh, there
all my n*ggas with it, yeah, yeah, ayy
all my n*ggas with it, yeah, yeah, ayy
this a freestyle, lil’ n*gga, yeah, yeah
get in, b*tch, uh, yeah
freestyle, yeah (ooh), all my n*ggas with it
[verse 2: malc deezy & c glizzy]
juvenile mindset, run up on you quick
mind on the cheese, give a f*ck about a b*tch
that lil’ trigger, i’ma squeeze, watch an old man get slit
sniper boys, pull up on my n*ggas, we’re the sh*t
thinkin’ that you real, you are really counterfeit
n*gga, what’s your deal, uh, uh, i’ll split
ayy, give a f*ck about a b*tch
ayy, n*gga, i’m the sh*t
ayy, i’m the sh*t
no, i’m not number two, but, n*gga, i’m the sh*t
ayy, you could suck my f*ckin’ d*ck (ayy, ayy)
ayy, i’m freestyle’ in this b*tch (ayy, ayy)
ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, jump

[verse 3: c glizzy]
drive the range rover and that b*tch stolen
all my n*ggas with me, yeah, we like pokin’
and i got them plays, h*ll yeah, there’s motion
i was just a juvenile, i was l!ckin’, i was scorin’
momma was a crackhead, h*ll, not a lie, ho
i ain’t never go, yeah, you bang dead flies, uh (yeah)

[veres 4: malc deezy]
ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, dead flies
bad blood in my body, boy, this sh*t get violent
i got green on my plate like i’m on a diet
told ’em, “don’t scream,” told them folks to keep quiet
these n*ggas lookin’ for me but i ain’t hidin’
these n*ggas talkin’ sh*t, but i don’t buy it
if a n*gga ever said he touch me then he lyin’
this sh*t hit so easy, n*gga, i cannot retire
spittin’ sh*t in the booth like i’m michael myers
all my n*ggas tote pistols, all i gotta say is, “fire”
all my n*ggas tote pistols, boy, you wished i was a liar
makin’ so much heat i be p*ssin’ on the fire
[outro: c glizzy]
ayy, ayy, ayy, f*ck you doin’, b*tch?
man, you trippin’

- malc deezy lyrics

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