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drill k - tae porter lyrics

[intro]
yessir
big porter
grah
know what the f*ck the is
grah
tp in the cut with me
grah, grah
she said, “i’m on fire”
i’m on fire, n*gga
grah, grah, grah

[verse]
big stepper, big porter
you know i do this sh*t
maneuver with some [?] crips, totin’ the ruler clips
f*ck who you wit’
i came out the cut and n*ggas was too equipped, with stupid sh*t
so we got some foolishness for the foolishness
i’m doing this cause n*ggas say i’m just a drill rapper
get on a beat like this and lyrically k!ll rappers
don’t compare me to them lil’ b*st*rds
drill rap is like an i8 and i’m more like a ferrari
i’m tryna run the state while b*tchеs ride me like a harlеy
got a b*tch named zoe, she got a friend named quinn
and zoe last name was quinn, so i thought that they was kin
i ain’t really give a f*ck, i backed the truck and said get in
i ain’t tryna make amends with none of my old friends
seen my uncle locked down, i might never see again
f*ck all of my old b*tches, i’m putting them in my spliff
blow they spirit out my lungs, now they gone with the wind
dirty n*gga from the bronx, i was stompin’ in my timb’s
started getting my name out, and now these b*tches want my yams
i’m a different typa n*gga, i been working on my pen
cookin’ up, i’m in the stu’, you ain’t got bars, you can’t get in
n*ggas hatin’ on a youngin’ ’cause they know he could flow
and he gon’ touch up on the places that they never could go
all this hatin’ sh*t motivation, i’m letting ’em go
tell ’em to face it, like good jamaican, i’m here for the show
told these mother f*ckers that i ain’t the one to go and play with
real rapper, lil’ n*gga, all you drill n*ggas basic
bunny hop up in the spot, i’m with the guys, you might not make it
talkin’ spicy, i see a chance to take your life then ima take it
real n*gga, never faked it, i just kept a low profile
n*ggas want some wreck, i tell ’em, “bet,” like, we can showdown
12 o’clock at noon, we turn your block into a ghost town
i’m smoking up these dead n*ggas, i think i see his ghost now
you was blood, now you crip, and wanna go and blitz on a makk
i got some love for some hounds, but mocha droppin’ the hat
like, n*ggas gz, then they sleeze, i’m like, “b*tch, oh please”
the gun be hot, but when you up it, sh*t be making them freeze
everything dead, if you tight, then, n*gga, come for my head
catch lil’ baby ddot, n*ggas might just rock him to bed
feel like 50, how to rob drill rappers, instead
and you can play it back when i’m finished, you can hear what i said
like, ima start with 41, i f*ck with y’all, but it’s over
like, ta literally 4’1, n*ggas running him over
jenn carter got the wap, y’all n*ggas pause for that
you probably said the wock’, but i don’t know, y’all n*ggas pause for that
kyle richh, he a b*tch, man, that n*gga went to private school
i catch him dolo, we gon’ beat him out his diamond jewels
jenn carter not the best dyk*e, and she never will be
’cause young ma still alive, so all you drill b*tches k!ll me
talkin’ ’bout you, “top 2, not 2”
hoe, what the f*ck?
have my cousin, tre, pull up just to box you
spitting like a dragon, blowing smoke right out my nostrils
all these drill bars getting older than a fossil
ek scream in every song, i wanna hear something different (why you yellin’?)
b lovee sound like he eating peanut b*tter when he spittin’
yus gz the black man, batman, sarge yus
you got hit a lotta times, you should stay in the booth (you got shot in the ass)
nah, f*ck that, ima get up on my jaydee sh*t
i’m dissing everybody, f*ck it, it’s gon’ make me lit
run down on 26, like, we just want us a chain
and then we said, “nevermind, we can’t read what it say”
i just want new york to get back on that old school gritty sh*t
f*ck is all that dancing with the hips?
like, that’s that philly sh*t
new york’ll set the trends, and i ain’t ever follow silly sh*t
that’s why i throw the blazer like i’m ‘reem, i’m on my billy sh*t
when i got my gun i feel like everybody a stain
that n*gga j.i. a b*tch, i see him, i’m taking his chain
spin the ‘rey and spin the ‘well, i’m ’bout to make me a name
blow the gates up on the 8 like i was playing the game
can’t spin at night ’cause nesty black, i can’t see none
flashed it on a bl!ck, i upped this sh*t, and he like, “please buzzin, i ain’t want no static, and please excuse me for mean muggin’”
all that dissin’ on the dead, was on his knees like he ain’t mean nothing?
murda b, you family, you know that ima f*ck with you
but b*tches beating on you in the yams, that ain’t comfortable
said you beating on b*tches, you ain’t do it then
i don’t know what you gon’ do when they pull up with the—
kenzo b, you said you not gz, but you throw up gz in the picture
probably a thot, treesh, get up on your knees off the liquor
that n*gga, tg, he like five feet, ima kick him
all these short n*ggas, i don’t need a bl!ck or a chop
n*ggas talkin’ ’bout the sweepers, but the porters brung the mop
n*ggas really think they slimey, so we come to wipe the snot
b*tch, i’m looking for a sweeper, tryna clean a n*gga block
bring the .40 or the shotty, hit s with the dot
it’s like the shotty do karate, way it leave a body chopped
and shani boni, i’m on ya body, i’m tryna eat the box
tryna show you n*ggas that the porters do it the best, and all these other lil’ n*ggas is stressed, mother f*cker

- tae porter lyrics

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