Thank you, Timmy boy
Okay then, nigga
Know how we coming
Spendin' down them niggas, block In track, bitch, I'm on one
Chillin' in a pad with three hoes, havin' four somes
Sit your ass down before I slime you out your ghost gun
Ever since I lost my big brother, I ain't show no love
How niggas tryna beef, hop up in the field, got no gun
Thinkin' this shit sweet, don't run up on me, got the wrong one
Don't try shit on this field, we been givin' niggas home runs
Been, turnin' up my city, you lil' niggas motion slowed up
Let's put it on the flo, who really standin' on some business
Doin' the max speed in the cat, blowin' out the engine
Walk around my school, playin' it cool, knowin' I'm that nigga
I'm still claiming ' smoke with them, knowin' they got switches
I don't give a f*ck, you know the Jeff , the shit we got come bigger
Niggas lookin' at my bitch page, prayin' they can hit her
I won't trip, but if my bitch going, then you can get her
Main bitch tryna fight my other hoe, bitch, you tender
I been turnin' up my city, no, for real
We got our own poles, we don't need to call to kill
Man, this street shit ain't for you, you gon' get lost inside the field
I ain't tryna sign that contract, they ain't comin' with a mill
Loyalty be over everything, you know how that shit be
They in the squares, had that one bitch send the LOC
Trackhawks and SRT trucks, two different jeeps
Opps say they finna hit that block in one put it on E
Phat, I been on my top, poppin' percs like it's medicine
Niggas put the hoes before for the pape act like it's relevant
The devil at the door hoppin' i fall, I can't let him in
I bet I go and suit up, get that call that he on Jefferson
Ghost G with the button on the back, I'm coppin' heat
When I get inside that murder bag, ain't no stoppin' me
Tryna pour that Wock inside my cup, I'm tired of coppin' green
Ken pop out 308, it'll chop down a tree
Talkin' bout she want relations, f*ck up on my phone with that
Tryna tell you niggas get some money, ain't nothin' wrong with that
Tryna roll his dead ass in the wood, that nigga rollin' back
Man, how the f*ck you got some opps, you went and sold your mag
Wonder what happened in that whip
They did Melly part two in that bitch, I'm like, shit
And I'm just speakin' facts on this song, not no diss
Shit get real wicked, had his sister on bro dick
Nah, for real though
Phat, nigga
They can't f*ck with me, nigga
BackendJr - Out My Top Lyrics
BackendJr - Out My Top Lyrics
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English
Thank you, Timmy boy
Okay then, nigga
Know how we coming
Spendin' down them niggas, block In track, bitch, I'm on one
Chillin' in a pad with three hoes, havin' four somes
Sit your ass down before I slime you out your ghost gun
Ever since I lost my big brother, I ain't show no love
How niggas tryna beef, hop up in the field, got no gun
Thinkin' this shit sweet, don't run up on me, got the wrong one
Don't try shit on this field, we been givin' niggas home runs
Been, turnin' up my city, you lil' niggas motion slowed up
Let's put it on the flo, who really standin' on some business
Doin' the max speed in the cat, blowin' out the engine
Walk around my school, playin' it cool, knowin' I'm that nigga
I'm still claiming ' smoke with them, knowin' they got switches
I don't give a f*ck, you know the Jeff , the shit we got come bigger
Niggas lookin' at my bitch page, prayin' they can hit her
I won't trip, but if my bitch going, then you can get her
Main bitch tryna fight my other hoe, bitch, you tender
I been turnin' up my city, no, for real
We got our own poles, we don't need to call to kill
Man, this street shit ain't for you, you gon' get lost inside the field
I ain't tryna sign that contract, they ain't comin' with a mill
Loyalty be over everything, you know how that shit be
They in the squares, had that one bitch send the LOC
Trackhawks and SRT trucks, two different jeeps
Opps say they finna hit that block in one put it on E
Phat, I been on my top, poppin' percs like it's medicine
Niggas put the hoes before for the pape act like it's relevant
The devil at the door hoppin' i fall, I can't let him in
I bet I go and suit up, get that call that he on Jefferson
Ghost G with the button on the back, I'm coppin' heat
When I get inside that murder bag, ain't no stoppin' me
Tryna pour that Wock inside my cup, I'm tired of coppin' green
Ken pop out 308, it'll chop down a tree
Talkin' bout she want relations, f*ck up on my phone with that
Tryna tell you niggas get some money, ain't nothin' wrong with that
Tryna roll his dead ass in the wood, that nigga rollin' back
Man, how the f*ck you got some opps, you went and sold your mag
Wonder what happened in that whip
They did Melly part two in that bitch, I'm like, shit
And I'm just speakin' facts on this song, not no diss
Shit get real wicked, had his sister on bro dick
Nah, for real though
Phat, nigga
They can't f*ck with me, nigga
Okay then, nigga
Know how we coming
Spendin' down them niggas, block In track, bitch, I'm on one
Chillin' in a pad with three hoes, havin' four somes
Sit your ass down before I slime you out your ghost gun
Ever since I lost my big brother, I ain't show no love
How niggas tryna beef, hop up in the field, got no gun
Thinkin' this shit sweet, don't run up on me, got the wrong one
Don't try shit on this field, we been givin' niggas home runs
Been, turnin' up my city, you lil' niggas motion slowed up
Let's put it on the flo, who really standin' on some business
Doin' the max speed in the cat, blowin' out the engine
Walk around my school, playin' it cool, knowin' I'm that nigga
I'm still claiming ' smoke with them, knowin' they got switches
I don't give a f*ck, you know the Jeff , the shit we got come bigger
Niggas lookin' at my bitch page, prayin' they can hit her
I won't trip, but if my bitch going, then you can get her
Main bitch tryna fight my other hoe, bitch, you tender
I been turnin' up my city, no, for real
We got our own poles, we don't need to call to kill
Man, this street shit ain't for you, you gon' get lost inside the field
I ain't tryna sign that contract, they ain't comin' with a mill
Loyalty be over everything, you know how that shit be
They in the squares, had that one bitch send the LOC
Trackhawks and SRT trucks, two different jeeps
Opps say they finna hit that block in one put it on E
Phat, I been on my top, poppin' percs like it's medicine
Niggas put the hoes before for the pape act like it's relevant
The devil at the door hoppin' i fall, I can't let him in
I bet I go and suit up, get that call that he on Jefferson
Ghost G with the button on the back, I'm coppin' heat
When I get inside that murder bag, ain't no stoppin' me
Tryna pour that Wock inside my cup, I'm tired of coppin' green
Ken pop out 308, it'll chop down a tree
Talkin' bout she want relations, f*ck up on my phone with that
Tryna tell you niggas get some money, ain't nothin' wrong with that
Tryna roll his dead ass in the wood, that nigga rollin' back
Man, how the f*ck you got some opps, you went and sold your mag
Wonder what happened in that whip
They did Melly part two in that bitch, I'm like, shit
And I'm just speakin' facts on this song, not no diss
Shit get real wicked, had his sister on bro dick
Nah, for real though
Phat, nigga
They can't f*ck with me, nigga
Writer: Backend Jr
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid