Pull up and get him That bullet ripped through his tissue and tore out his gristle It was the nickel, and it's a Glock And that bitch sound like a missile He know I'm official Doin' all that woofin' and shit, boy, you know I'ma get you And when nobody with him I wore a nine, the shoes and can't nobody fit 'em I popped a Perky, a thirty I'm higher than a bitch, boy, ain't nobody perfect If I take a L, I'm back on that corner I'm hustlin', ain't nobody servin' Get booked 'cause somebody workin' He told, I know that for certain Get caught, I'm closin' his curtains We scored another conversion Designer, Givenchy All of this ice on my wrist and it feel like it's Christmas Speakin' of Christmas, come get your ho I be climbin' all up in her chimney We seein' the ho if she friendly Ain't see him, he goin', he missin' Won't see me in the back of a Bentley Hop out and I'm blowin', it's rented Walk up, ain't doin' no drive-bys Your MVP, that bitch my sideline Just a wild lil' nigga from the South side Nigga killed your homie, you don't even come outside Fucked your bitch on purpose Them bows came in, we workin' My song come on, she twerkin' All the opps be broke, they hurtin' My niggas, they too official Send a text, they get right with you Y'all was somewhere playin' Monkey in the Middle We was tryna put on for some guns when I was little If we still allowed, we gon' meet 'em and then split 'em On the jail call, gotta talk in the riddle Ho said she love me, she gon' tat my initials Nigga move foul, get to blowin' like a whistle Fuck that, let's talk about Louis, Amiri, and Gucci and Prada and shit When I go to the store, they closin' the door and bringin' me bottles and shit Fuck that, let's talk about that lil' one-fifty I spent with my lawyer wasn't shit My gun don't punch, it kick Get with this shit or get hit in your shit Pull up and get him That bullet ripped through his tissue and tore out his gristle It was the nickel, and it's a Glock And that bitch sound like a missile He know I'm official Doin' all that woofin' and shit, boy, you know I'ma get you And when nobody with him I wore a nine, the shoes and can't nobody fit 'em Walk up, ain't doin' no drive-bys Your MVP, that bitch my sideline Just a wild lil' nigga from the South side Nigga killed your homie, you don't even come outside Fucked your bitch on purpose Them bows came in, we workin' My song come on, she twerkin' All the opps be broke, they hurtin'
Yeah. Chopsquad used the same melodies but different pitch in I am what I am and broke opps. He produced both of em look, ru-vid.com/video/%D0%B2%D0%B8%D0%B4%D0%B5%D0%BE-D1Qqpi5YXsg.html
