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past pershing - t-bone (det) lyrics

[intro]
(i was just playin’, i was just playin’, man)

[verse 1: t*bone]
in a foreign car swervin’, ridin’ past persian
in the mall splurgin’
he just stopped me for a picture, i don’t know this person
love my lil’ b*tch rihanna ’cause she stay workin’
slapped the shh on my glock, now that b*tch jerkin’
thick b*tch twerkin’, your pockets hurtin’
[?] p*ssy out, grabbed my d*ck, told me, “insert it”
draco got an opp n*gga twistin’, turnin’

[verse 2: fordio]
my pop pink as mrs. piggy, n*ggas sippin’ kermit
i know many men hatin’, give ’em 50, curtis
you won’t buy it for yourself, don’t even think of birkin
n*ggas hit me for theyself, my whole team crunchin’
sh*t, i’ve been copin’ with this pill, don’t even think i’m hurtin’
cracked a pint and got the chills, think morty really f*cked me
if i was you, i wouldn’t last ’cause bein’ brokе ain’t funny
hand*to*hands, i move the load beforе i even touch it
treat it like a close game, know my dog clutchin’
she say, “how you love that drank? it’s really disgusting”

[verse 3: mjpaid]
i won’t never give my heart, i know b*tches f*ckin’ (nope)
you can’t conversate with us, this a rich discussion (n*gga)
sittin’ on your ass, n*gga, take a risk or somethin’
book me for a show, gotta know my k!llers comin’ (yep)
on the interstate, n*gga, ain’t no interruptions
high as h*ll, feds on me scorin’, that’s an and*one
finish up the site the f*ck down if my bin up
bounce back bandit, take losses with my chin, n*gga
i don’t never rap about no sh*t that i did once
playin’ with my money, now we finna f*ck his crib up
b*tch, alright, show me why i shouldn’t when i did [?]
[verse 4: glockboyz teejaee]
used to swipe cards, now i swipe your b*tch
a n*gga glock’ll still rob you for every day and he rich
paranoid, ready to shoot when i be ridin’ with that switch
i heard you beefin’ with them k!llers, you need to find yourself a ditch
real bodies, i owe the hitman, come and f*ckin’ with the k!llers
i know they scared to get up with us, we them one n*ggas
tryna hang around with me, boy, i hope you brought your gun with you
i ain’t the type of n*gga [?] she even know if you don’t own a pistol
i’m like shaq, f*ck around and break the rim
you the type of n*gga to tell, go to court like, “that was him”
i’m the n*gga to call the shots like pac was in above the rim, yeah

[verse 5: t*bone]
just bought a new glizzy, ridin’ through the city
keep it a hundred with me
‘fore i drop fifty
ridin’ ’round with my glock, boy, i’m with teejaee
i’m outside on the opps with this b*tch’ll make him relay
scat pack do two hundred on the freeway

- t bone det lyrics

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