grim reaper - thf lil law lyrics
[intro]
grr
(bolegs, this you?)
we want dead bodies, we want all the graveyards overcrowded
we want dead bodies, we want all the graveyards overcrowded
ayy, f*ck all the opps, man
uh, uh
[verse 1]
i just swung through my opps’ block, tweaked out playin’ grim reaper
i be laughin’ at them playin’ with me knowin’ i k!ll people
mask down, gloves on, that lil law sh*t get me tweakin’
toss a four right at his ‘fro, it only took one time to squeeze it
i sip that purple sh*t, had to drop the oxy’, they be beefin’
larrelle playin’ with a rolls*royce, then, well, her daddy decent
it’s like four of my opps left, why would i do industry beefin’?
they say that i’m slimy to the labels and industry people
that lil’ sh*t they said got back, somehow it had reached me
i just went and grabbed two scat packs to k!ll all of they people
then another label call and some money was involved
then i think about that money, i went up off fentanyl
(then i think about my dogs, they got jammed behind that wall)
i send him money for his commissary and pick up every call
a n*gga play, then he gon’ die and he f*cked up
won’t even have no headstone when his b*tch ass go in the ground
[interlude]
ayy, man, thf or death, man, nothin’ else, 4469
yeah, man, you know? frr
ain’t no other handlers, the only handlers
[verse 2]
yeah, uh, we the only handlers
bail out right here, face his ass, you got your mask, f*ck that camera
n*ggas goofies, tryna be opps with us now, this sh*t hilarious
i traded a pipe with him back in the day, the one that kept on jammin’
he wouldn’t know if i ain’t just say somethin’, he probably ain’t never blam it
f*ck that n*gga, sent the g back to the store, i broke my blender
i put my mask on for the dough, peno used to have that dough
he used to shake some much blow, started gettin’ high and playin’ with his nose
i learned from him not to take panties off that ho
i feel like soulja slim, draco, army bandana up on it
show me my opponent, mm, show me my opponent
whatever genre that they put me in, could rightfully say i own it
yeah, them boys with me, the ones with shiesty masks and rifles on ’em
and they take them b*tches everywhere like they got licenses for ’em
none of my n*ggas b*tches and they still get busy, thank the lord
is like snitchin’ trendin’? and all these snake*ass n*ggas tryna backdoor
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