smack - papoose lyrics
[verse 1: remy*ma]
remy*ma
i grew up with the k!llas’
100 dolla’ billas’
my mob roll deep
we ain’t go no feelings
chip up on your shoulder
i guess you got a point to prove
i would put you little b*tched on the 10 o’clock news
wait, see i’m always on my sh*t
yah big homie on my d*ck
you a clown and he a trick
see i know i got that drip
i be rolling with the clique
i put rollie’s on their risk
you just a phony little b*tch
i got the homies in the whip and they gunnas (gunnas)
i give you ho’s seven winters and six summers
making moves in the street
how my wolves eat the sheep
all y’all b*tches straight p*ssies
say somethin’ (ah!)
ride on them in a second
you must got death wish
my n*gga’s is hungry you lookin’ like breakfast
y’all n*ggas be texting, y’all think that’s a weapon
spray your momma crib now that’s how you send a message
ante up, ante up
yep before you necklace
n*gga that’s a heckla’
you gotta respect it
b*tch i made a movie, put that sh*t on netflix
you be talking gangsta
but you were selected
said you run a set b*tch
now you tryna set trip
i’m calling you p*ssy, you calling detectives
hit you in your chest quick
that’s what i call a breast lift
had to move a body
that what i call a deadlift
[verse 2: papoose]
shout out to beasley and smack yo!
papoose militant brooklyn fidel castro
black of into door
svj the lambo i thought a broke n*gga said something
money bag yo’
landscaper pushing a lawnmower through mad slow
cause it easier to see the snakes when the grass low
that boeing seven seven seventy moving fast yo
i’m on the jet*son, elroy, george and astro
punched your man dead in his face ‘cause he’s an assh0l*
made his nose bleed like a concert, last row
n*ggas try to book me, the p*ssy i’m more dangerous
if you were smart you would book someone who’s more famous
i still got hood in me my whole life i caught cases
robbed dice games because i threw all aces
how you gonna book me i’m one of new york’s bravest
you was moving slow and your homie was all anxious
you know this if you open that book and be more patient
y’all on ain’t the same page
y’all both on the wrong pages
when it comes to louis vuitton i’ve lost wages
man i wear more lv than las vegas
eat fish these broke dudes ramen noodles
more lv than fifty five in roman numerals
merciless purposes serving the herd with these services
fly as a bird with this swerve in the urban with turbulence
heard your chick turned to tricks slurping d*ck with the herpes lip
turned the wig checking and then purchase some f*cking percocet’s
hurt your clique and burnt your whip coward you was the perfect vic’
murder murder sh*t when it burn the clique and disperse the clip
first to flip insert the clip jerked your clique to earn the chip
learning from a verbalist
earning from a journalist
burnt the pimp to squirt the fifth
dirty sh*t reverses quick
with a mac son i jacks son on some curtis sh*t
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