Automatic Glock (Feat. Slevpy808)

Pussy try to talk, got the automatic glock
Bullets on my hip, call a noose up in a knot
Put a hole up in his chest, leave his body there to rot
Said don't need a grave, burn the body on the spot
I got metal for his top, Jack Daniels go on reminisce
That pussy owed me money, so we left him with a pot to piss in
Hashtags on a shirt, they tryna find who calling this
I'm mixing in some fenny with his shot, feel his body seize
I'm counting all these digits
Cop a new car, foreign, windows tinted
All these shots out of the clip, they be hitting
Blood stained shirt all this money I be getting
I'll put a bullet in his throat, I ain't finished
What- what the fuck?
Damn bruh hold on hold on
I think- I think I feel something bruh
I couldn't give a fuck about no fucking hoe
I made the money disappear and reappear like magic show
Put the cash in the bag, bitch I'm counting all the dough
Get the strap, made the bread, count some money, make some more ayy
I roll up all the windows in the whip
I'm smoking gas I'm high as fuck bitch I need to get a grip
Yo girl gon hit me up when she find out I'm a dick
Had her walking like a crab while she only took the tip
I got switches on me, getting a tag yo toe
I pop a molly inside my lean, we sipping wocky on the go
These pockets heavy too many bands, I left from JFK no joke
NY these times, I strapped the grip and the laser give it a second toke
This ain't no hoax
I ain't be walking down the street his body I see collecting rocks
This toolie automatic, ain't no paddock what you heard cuz we can't stop
My finger be glued I'm dropping bodies like snowflakes ay we on lock
And I be aiming at this pussy cuz this pussy yeah this
Pussy try to talk, got the automatic glock
Bullets on my hip, call a noose up in a knot
Put a hole up in his chest, leave his body there to rot
Said don't need a grave, burn the body on the spot
I got metal for his top, Jack Daniels go on reminisce
That pussy owed me money, so we left him with a pot to piss in
Hashtags on a shirt, they tryna find who calling this
I'm mixing in some fenny with his shot, feel his body seize
I'm counting all these digits
Cop a new car, foreign, windows tinted
All these shots out of the clip, they be hitting
Blood stained shirt all this money I be getting
I'll put a bullet in his throat, I ain't finished