762 (Feat. Chuckyy & Big Opp)
Bloodhound Q50
2:49We got smoke, this shit free On my dead homie (This shit gon' be crazy, Jacc) Brrt Lil' Vert I'm wit' Opp, bitch You know that, ha Long live Jeff, long live Scoom (uh-huh) Ridin' the Track' we was thirsty to swing that door Get the lo, we gon' turn the nigga right to a ghost Don't trust these hoes, they gon' try to backdoor All I know is he was woofin' and his ass got smoked (spanked) Had on a nice watch and his ass got poked (give me that) They ass got a deal and they ass back poor You ain't wanna die, then what you lacked for? If I ever go broke, we in the trap, bro (trap) Niggas played with gang, now they fuckin' trap closed (huh?) My head too fried, they know we whack hoes (grr) I like that switch, bro like Micros Two bitches that kissin', that's my type hoes You safe over here, better than Geico (Geico) I'ma score every time, don't give me iso When I'm on that court, ball like Michael (uh-huh) Still'll ride a straight 8, even though they mike those (yoom) Tap the gas, too fast, they can't mike those (yoom) A .40, a Drizzy, that's my type poles (grrt) I hang with the savages, we won't break or fold Don't honor the snitchin', we stick to the codes He was up in the streets back then, but he told All rats must die, free the gang, free the bros Hello? Who this? All rats must die, free the gang, free the bros We ain't fuckin' with that nigga if we heard he a snitch Nigga told on a body and he talk too much, like FBG Butta, that nigga a bitch From the 9 to the 9, you'll get clapped up, if you mention Lil Jeff, you get shot in ya' shit And it's long live Scoom, I ain't trustin' no ho, if she try to backdoor, give her ass like six I'm runnin' with gravediggers, when I bail out the whip, guarantee I'm the one first one clappin' Fresh off the plane, I got right in a hot, got to spinnin', I don't give a fuck about rappin' The opps know I'm standin' on business, I be first to shoot, so it ain't no reason for bappin' Too many times, you niggas was cryin', and Big Opp the reason yo' son wasn't laughin' Big Opp the reason you niggas be dyin' Big Opp the reason y'all mama's be cryin' Big Opp the young nigga, twenty-years-old with two chains, and he makin' a bag off rhymes Big Opp the reason he merch on his man's, so Big Opp the reason he ain't gon' slide Big Opp the reason for a whole lot of shit, and I don't duck shit, bitch, I be outside Wanna show me you rock? At the 7, they not, they gon' spin through the Pocket Post on the 'Gram in a Scat, pull up, Fin-fin, they dumb-ass thought I was in a Charger (go) This shit gettin' too easy, two more hats, I'm right there with the reaper Rinsin' shit off for my brother, when I catch me a nigga, I'ma send his ass way past Jesus Glock 23 with a button, shot a whole fifty shots, it ain't even feel like I squeezed it We get over on niggas, fuck even Steppin' in blood, lil' bitch, I'm bleedin' He say his miss dude then he should've drop 'em off Made his ass take his last ride, the nigga should've walked I'm smokin' Za too, I hear opp when I cough If I ever sign a deal, then I'm gettin' niggas bought We ridin' four deep in a Black All the way back, tryna catch us a hat TMC down, tell they ass get back I'm talkin' 'bout Slide 'cause his ass a pack, he should've never lacked I heard his ass caught four to the dome Get caught by us, you won't make it back home Caught his ass in traffic lookin' down at his phone Lil Pooh dissed Z, now Lil Pooh gone