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technical foul - pro dillinger lyrics

[intro]
uh
young n*ggas that blast for me
no religion
you don’t see me under this f*ckin’ umbrella, bro? (it’s dillinger, n*gga)
big stupid one nine, i’m on my playoff rondo sh*t (f*ck is wrong with y’all)
yo

[verse 1]
you n*ggas ain’t gon’ last long (nah)
past the singin’ sad songs (yeah), i murder every beat
i’m michael myers with the mask on (mask)
step into the ring with a champion, you get danced on (uh)
defense is good, hook sharp and the jab strong (great)
sniffers hit my line for the yola until they cash gone (uh)
simply math, you play with my money, and you get mashed on (mashed on)
had a good run in the flesh, but you gon’ pass on (aha)
i stab you many times in the stomach until yo’ abs gone (yeah)
blow the stеam, you clap hammers, and you get clapped on (blow)
autobiographical sh*t, this ain’t no rap song (this ain’t no song)
spit it how i livе it, no mumbles, this ain’t no trap song (aha)
move around just like a dyk*, n*gga, that strap long (facts)
f*ck a mil’, i’m pushin’ that fire they spent they last on (uh)
scummy, n*gga, stay in your lane, ‘fore you get crashed on (uh)
have a n*gga spin through your momma’ block with a mask on (spin, n*gga)
hit a clink and look at the spark, and turn the gas on
[chorus]
my lil’ homie shoot it when i say so (now!)
clap a n*gga, have ’em leavin’ with a halo (blow!)
uh
they don’t need no permission, them young n*ggas that blast for me
with no religion
my lil’ homie shoot it when i say so (now!)
clap a n*gga, have ’em leavin’ with a halo (blow!)
uh
they don’t need no permission, them young n*ggas that blast for me
with no religion (uh)

[verse 2]
i ain’t never meet a n*gga like me, i move different
hit a n*gga from the top of the roof, i shoot different
set the tone, n*ggas feelin’ the vibes, the mood different
stuffin’ white powder in black baggies for blue chicken (uh)
meet a v, now he show me around, that’s new chicken
open shot, call me kennedy fried, we move chicken
take one, then i double it up, that’s two chickens
stay away, from then roaches and rats, it’s stupidous
we don’t mix with you n*ggas, wow (nah)
a f*ckin’ b*tch, we don’t kiss and tell
throw your whole body in the wishin’ well (die)
black dress for his momma, n*ggas wish ’em well
put your whole soul in earth, that’s a different h*ll (uh)
my young boy just touched the facility, he gon’ give ’em h*ll (yeah)
tryed to write the n*gga that moved him, he in a different jail
know when n*ggas p*ssy for real, they got a different smell (i smell this)
i remember when i was hungry but i been livin’ well (uh)
[chorus]
my lil’ homie shoot it when i say so (now!)
clap a n*gga, have ’em leavin’ with a halo (blow!)
uh
they don’t need no permission, them young n*ggas that blast for me
with no religion
my lil’ homie shoot it when i say so (now!)
clap a n*gga, have ’em leavin’ with a halo (blow!)
uh
they don’t need no permission, them young n*ggas that blast for me
with no religion

- pro dillinger lyrics

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