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fights don't matter freestyle - otm lyrics

[verse 1: blue pesos]
2022 out the window, still showboatin’
let the mops hang and make ’em famous, know that one photo
his head hangin’ off his shoulders, he ain’t slumped over
we ain’t finna fight no n*gga, that ain’t no bueno
k.o’ed him, it was so sad, just peeped the face on him
must be broke with s.is, you see the chain on him?
grab the k before i scuffle, n*gga, fights don’t matter
dropped a four of wockhardt in muddy mose’ and start paisa dancin’ (sh*t)
with the big bank buddha chain
she came with five hundred and got hit with the stupid face (sh*t)
you could be her boyfriend, she know who to pay
n*ggas must be workin’ with the feds, i don’t got sh*t to say (sh*t)
where my cup? hold up
he got a wife beater and sandals and no blower (sh*t)
i thought y’all told him
that’s just a saying in la, n*gga, stay dangerous
y’all can’t stop nothin’
they tried to blackball the stincs, n*gga, do better (sh*t)
then he switched genders
i see some strange gang members, still hangin’ with ’em
don’t you got an image to uphold when you paid to get
a team independent? and they hate us, kinda strange, ain’t it?
in the end, duck with ’em if you hang with ’em
this ain’t the eighties, lil’ bro, we ain’t fightin’ nothin’
[verse 2: duffy]
sh*t, who want problems with us?
fight what? i just made a n*gga squabble bullets
too exclusive, both my pockets full of chili cheese
left his brains and his iphone in the street
n*ggas sneak dissin’ like this 40 ain’t a soul sn*tcher
told these n*ggas one too many times fights don’t matter
boogie down, then my chain made a lightshow after
free throw, the stinc team don’t need no practice
don’t panic, i just made him box this compact
run up on duffy, then his body’s gettin’ stretched out
shut up, old n*gga, ‘fore i blow a n*gga chest out
popped out the coupe with nina ross, that’s a man down
sh*lls found where his homie got chalk zoned
dressin’ up like hoes, n*gga, you ain’t got no backbone?
n*ggas say they with the gunplay, that’s all cap, though
beef? what is that? we gon’ turn him into gumbo
the most hated, i could never make that title up
he tried to box the mini draco, he was one and done
let me guess, this why all these n*ggas mad at us
off the mussle got these rapper n*ggas lookin’ lame as f*ck

[chorus: drakeo the ruler]
n*ggas sneak dissin’ every day, let the micro answer
tell this n*gga bm stop textin’, i might go blamp her
but the whole hood is the greatest, couldn’t find no manners
i’ma give him thirty*three shots ’cause fights don’t matter, sh*t
tell this n*gga bm stop textin’, i might go blamp her
n*gga
i’ma give him thirty*three shots ’cause fights don’t matter

- otm lyrics

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