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​green (remix) - ​mig (1) lyrics

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chorus (mig)
put racks on his head
i gotta stack my bread, choppa gon’ fill a n*gga up with lead
b*tch heard what i said, she sippin’ on green, we sippin on red
most of these b*tches be sped, i’m worried ’bout racks, i get ’em instead
yeah, you better run run run run
play wit my son son son son, got a choppa wit’ gang gang gang gang
we havin’ fun fun fun fun, we ain’t worried bout nun nun nun nun
wait ’til the sun sun sun up, choppa get that boy gone gone gone gone

put racks on his head
i gotta stack my bread, choppa gon’ fill a n*gga up with lead
b*tch heard what i said, she sippin’ on green, we sippin on red
most of these b*tches be sped, i’m worried ’bout racks, i get ’em instead
yeah, you better run run run run
play wit my son son son son, got a choppa wit’ gang gang gang gang
we havin’ fun fun fun fun, we ain’t worried bout nun nun nun nun
wait ’til the sun sun sun up, choppa get that boy gone gone gone gone

verse 1 (mig)
that n*gga done done done done, leave that boy dead
that hoe be texting my phone way too much, leave her on read
n*ggas thinkin’ i ain’t up, i ain’t worried, all the trends i set
n*ggas really be my son, wanna copy all the sh*t i said
n*ggas know i said that, money tall, i spread that
call yo hoe, ’cause she on my phone, and i asked her how i want her head at
k!lled a n*gga when he too close, tell that p*ssy n*gga just to get back
f*ckin’ a hoe, how you flex that? tell me n*gga, where yo checks at?
tell me n*gga where yo* (yeah, yeah, yeah yeah)
verse 2 (che)
tell me n*gga where yo checks at?
big bank, never stressed that
i got some [?] on my phone, but i never ever had ’em wit’ yo [?] ass
told this hoe i never text back, got good gas never [?] that
[?] tag, get him sent back, bullets [?]

p*ssy n*gga take a step back, or you dead
i’m in the a wit’ a big gat, sippin’ [?] and it’s red
i cannot f*ck wit’ yo b*tch ass, leave yo b*tch ass on read
yuh, choppa really finna swish that n*gga
smoke a n*gga like a swisher [?] n*gga
i been worried ’bout a bigger bag, n*gga

chorus (mig)
put racks on his head
i gotta stack my bread, choppa gon’ fill a n*gga up with lead
b*tch heard what i said, she sippin’ on green, we sippin on red
most of these b*tches be sped, i’m worried ’bout racks, i get ’em instead
yeah

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