no kizzy - rucci, azchike & capolow lyrics
[intro]
(jr, this beat really slap, bro)
[chorus: capolow]
b*tch, real rap, no kizzy
dj, turn me up, play my sh*t, we get jiggy
i don’t think i could name a n*gga f*cking with me
murder on my mind, stay gripping on the glizzy
bad ghetto b*tch, real shiesty from the city
get out our ass, get them sh*ts out our titties
don’t approach me if you don’t know me, you feel me?
i’ll torch dude, got the fully auto semi
[verse 1: rucci]
tell rolling loud i’m on the stage with my bl!cky
rucc dog, baby, in all red like i’m trippie
b*tch, i’m tryna f*ck, i ain’t really tryna bick it
in la with capolow off drugs and i’m tripping
yeah, aight, i don’t need no light
b*tch, i got my ice, b*tch, i got my pipe
riding with a glock, put this b*tch in sport
middle finger out the roof, yelling, “norf, norf”
i be out the yard with them cutthroats
you gon’ tell on yoursеlf, what you got a gun for?
ayy, off the opp pack, puff, puff, smoke
buck, buck, baow, left him on thе floor
hold on, well, it’s that gat toting, pistol holding n*gga on your d*mn street
a star up in my hood, i need a grammy
i was f*cking on that b*tch from detroit, she tried to scam me
they still asking ’bout that house in miami
[chorus: capolow]
b*tch, real rap, no kizzy
dj, turn me up, play my sh*t, we get jiggy
i don’t think i could name a n*gga f*cking with me
murder on my mind, stay gripping on the glizzy
bad ghetto b*tch, real shiesty from the city
get out our ass, get them sh*ts out our titties
don’t approach me if you don’t know me, you feel me?
i’ll torch dude, got the fully auto semi
[verse 2: azchike]
i give smoke, get a swisher or the philly
chopper go dumb, let me show you i’m feeling
n*ggas really b, i be bopping with a billy
bully in the bay, n*ggas bimping out a bentley
ho, we sliding, like, really
money on the clock, i had to time my millies
ride for my n*ggas when i pop my wheelies
cooking in the trap, i never drop my sk!llet
but i might drop my b*tches
and sell ’em to the streets, come and cop my b*tches
i don’t know who, but them is not my b*tches
n*ggas like hoes, can you stop that b*tching? (can you stop that, b*tch?)
[chorus: capolow]
b*tch, real rap, no kizzy
dj, turn me up, play my sh*t, we get jiggy
i don’t think i could name a n*gga f*cking with me
murder on my mind, stay gripping on the glizzy
bad ghetto b*tch, real shiesty from the city
get out our ass, get them sh*ts out our titties
don’t approach me if you don’t know me, you feel me?
i’ll torch dude, got the fully auto semi
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