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Polo G - Unapologetic Lyrics



Polo G - Unapologetic Lyrics
Official




(Southside on the track, yeah)
Uh, uh, uh

Prada steppin', in your club, we got a lot of weapons
Yeah, bitch, I know that I'm the shit, I'm unapologetic
My steppers marchin' like a band, they hit your block and wet it
Hell, nah, we ain't playin', you better call the reverend

I was taught to drop an opp
Before I go and drop a diss (drop a diss)
Won't apologize about that lick
Tell him come get his shit (come get your shit)
Brand new bitch with brand new tits
Her ass thicker than Jiffy mix (thicker than Jiffy mix)
Don't f*ck with no set-up
Bitch, you play, I smack you with this blick (brrt, brrt, brrt)

Pass the Glock, a give and go (a give and go)
Shoot it with me when I blow (when I blow)
At your top, we hit your throat, I call that hangin' from a rope
Niggas know how I be gettin' too wicked, two titties on semis
My glizzies got jimmies, no jammin', knock the jelly out biscuits
Boy, you got me f*cked up (you got me f*cked up)
Bitch, you know you lucked up (you know you lucked up)
Caught him out in traffic (come here, boy)
Hit the car but he duck, duck, a goose better get loose
Shooters comin' after you, and all of your troops (all of your troops)
What you gonna do when this fire get to lettin' loose?
(When that thing get to lettin' loose, brrt)
Lock him in the trunk (in the trunk)
Take the emergency exit off so he can't run (ayy, he can't run from us)
Doin' donuts, havin' fun (ayy, havin' fun)
This his last ride before he meet my f*ckin' gun, nigga (come here, come here, brrt)

Prada steppin', in your club, we got a lot of weapons
Yeah, bitch, I know that I'm the shit, I'm unapologetic
My steppers marchin' like a band, they hit your block and wet it
Hell, nah, we ain't playin', you better call the reverend

I was taught to drop an opp
Before I go and drop a diss (drop a diss)
Won't apologize about that lick
Tell him come get his shit (come get your shit)
Brand new bitch with brand new tits
Her ass thicker than Jiffy mix (thicker than Jiffy mix)
Don't f*ck with no set-up
Bitch, you play, I smack you with this blick (uh, uh)

Dracos, we'll dump him, slump him like he sippin' purple lean
Broski shoot your mans all in his shit to get his hurt redeemed
Knock him off for snitchin', better act like you ain't heard a thing
Better pray you miss that FaceTime when that burner ring
Body bag, zip him up, it's a murder scene
Left him with a tag like he tryna show his Purple jeans
Deep textin' and decoys to the hood, we servin' certain fiends
I know the feds listenin', tryna figure out what my verses mean
Out the window, dreads shakin', trappin', duckin' fed cases
Dough boy, I was bread chasin', pocket full of dead faces
I'm best friends with Ben Franklin, addies got my head racin'
Problems got me med takin', models in my bed naked

Prada steppin', in your club, we got a lot of weapons
Yeah, bitch, I know that I'm the shit, I'm unapologetic
My steppers marchin' like a band, they hit your block and wet it
Hell, nah, we ain't playin', you better call the reverend

I was taught to drop an opp
Before I go and drop a diss (drop a diss)
Won't apologize about that lick
Tell him come get his shit (come get your shit)
Brand new bitch with brand new tits
Her ass thicker than Jiffy mix (thicker than Jiffy mix)
Don't f*ck with no set-up
Bitch, you play, I smack you with this blick (brrt, brrt)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




(Southside on the track, yeah)
Uh, uh, uh

Prada steppin', in your club, we got a lot of weapons
Yeah, bitch, I know that I'm the shit, I'm unapologetic
My steppers marchin' like a band, they hit your block and wet it
Hell, nah, we ain't playin', you better call the reverend

I was taught to drop an opp
Before I go and drop a diss (drop a diss)
Won't apologize about that lick
Tell him come get his shit (come get your shit)
Brand new bitch with brand new tits
Her ass thicker than Jiffy mix (thicker than Jiffy mix)
Don't f*ck with no set-up
Bitch, you play, I smack you with this blick (brrt, brrt, brrt)

Pass the Glock, a give and go (a give and go)
Shoot it with me when I blow (when I blow)
At your top, we hit your throat, I call that hangin' from a rope
Niggas know how I be gettin' too wicked, two titties on semis
My glizzies got jimmies, no jammin', knock the jelly out biscuits
Boy, you got me f*cked up (you got me f*cked up)
Bitch, you know you lucked up (you know you lucked up)
Caught him out in traffic (come here, boy)
Hit the car but he duck, duck, a goose better get loose
Shooters comin' after you, and all of your troops (all of your troops)
What you gonna do when this fire get to lettin' loose?
(When that thing get to lettin' loose, brrt)
Lock him in the trunk (in the trunk)
Take the emergency exit off so he can't run (ayy, he can't run from us)
Doin' donuts, havin' fun (ayy, havin' fun)
This his last ride before he meet my f*ckin' gun, nigga (come here, come here, brrt)

Prada steppin', in your club, we got a lot of weapons
Yeah, bitch, I know that I'm the shit, I'm unapologetic
My steppers marchin' like a band, they hit your block and wet it
Hell, nah, we ain't playin', you better call the reverend

I was taught to drop an opp
Before I go and drop a diss (drop a diss)
Won't apologize about that lick
Tell him come get his shit (come get your shit)
Brand new bitch with brand new tits
Her ass thicker than Jiffy mix (thicker than Jiffy mix)
Don't f*ck with no set-up
Bitch, you play, I smack you with this blick (uh, uh)

Dracos, we'll dump him, slump him like he sippin' purple lean
Broski shoot your mans all in his shit to get his hurt redeemed
Knock him off for snitchin', better act like you ain't heard a thing
Better pray you miss that FaceTime when that burner ring
Body bag, zip him up, it's a murder scene
Left him with a tag like he tryna show his Purple jeans
Deep textin' and decoys to the hood, we servin' certain fiends
I know the feds listenin', tryna figure out what my verses mean
Out the window, dreads shakin', trappin', duckin' fed cases
Dough boy, I was bread chasin', pocket full of dead faces
I'm best friends with Ben Franklin, addies got my head racin'
Problems got me med takin', models in my bed naked

Prada steppin', in your club, we got a lot of weapons
Yeah, bitch, I know that I'm the shit, I'm unapologetic
My steppers marchin' like a band, they hit your block and wet it
Hell, nah, we ain't playin', you better call the reverend

I was taught to drop an opp
Before I go and drop a diss (drop a diss)
Won't apologize about that lick
Tell him come get his shit (come get your shit)
Brand new bitch with brand new tits
Her ass thicker than Jiffy mix (thicker than Jiffy mix)
Don't f*ck with no set-up
Bitch, you play, I smack you with this blick (brrt, brrt)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Bryson Potts, Joshua Luellen, Matthew-Kyle Adrian Brown, Taurus Bartlett
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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