Tag: AR

[Intro]
Let the band play
Skrrt, skrrt
Yeah yeah, skrrt

[Verse 1]
Got a McLaren with the butterfly doors (Butterfly doors)
I drop the top just to let my diamonds show (Let my diamonds show)
What chain to put on? Eeny, meeny, miny, moe (Miny moe)
I pull up, all the kids screamin’, “Whoa” (Whoa)
They eyes poppin’, jaws droppin’, lookin’ like they saw a ghost
Red dots on the chops, yeah my nigga ’nem on go
Left a lot, hit the block, smoke some pot with my bros
Yeah, you know I’ma get it, get it in, go get some more

[Chorus]
Hah, hah, hah, hah, hah
This young nigga hot, uh
Bottom of the pot, yeah (Yeah)
Mister Shop-a-Lot, yeah
I do what you not, yeah
Pockets full of knots, yeah
My pockets ’bout to pop
Hah, hah, hah, hah, hah
This young nigga hot, uh (Yeah)
Bottom of the pot, yeah
Mister Shop-a-Lot, yeah
I do what you not, yeah
Pockets full of knots, yeah
My pockets ’bout to pop

[Verse 2]
It’s a bird, it’s a plane, nah, bitch, that’s Glock, yeah
Gettin’ throat from a thot, yeah, ridin’ ’round dodgin’ cop cars
Money long, I came far, life short, keep my AR
Don’t drink but I slang dark, no we ain’t the same, my boy
Playin’ in the foreign truck, AMG Benz Tonka toy
All my cars make too much noise, you niggas lil’ bitty boys
Hit it and you hear the horse, you know that I’m rich, of course
Ballin’, better check the score, I’m the on these hoes adore

[Chorus]
Hah, hah, hah, hah, hah
This young nigga hot, uh
Bottom of the pot, yeah
Mister Shop-a-Lot, yeah
I do what you not, yeah
Pockets full of knots, yeah
My pockets ’bout to pop
Hah, hah, hah, hah, hah
This young nigga hot, uh
Bottom of the pot, yeah
Mister Shop-a-Lot, yeah
I do what you not, yeah
Pockets full of knots, yeah
My pockets ’bout to pop

[Outro]
It’s a bird, it’s a plane, nah, bitch, that’s Glock
Nah, bitch, that’s Glock, nah, bitch, that’s Glock

[Verse 1: J Dose]
Listen, niggas can’t handle Dose
Yeah I heard you handle bread, see if you can handle toast
Hit his dome when I’m spitting the fifth
Leave him with a spinning top without the rope and the flick of the wrist
I’m as sick as it gets, I’m a dime with these rhymes
You would, be aight, but you lying in ya’ lines
Check it, I keep my mind on my mind
If time was money then I’m Shyne in his prime
I’m ’bout a dollar, profit’s what I work wit’
Money’s a purpose you ain’t got it you ain’t worth it
I [?] in order to get paid right
You showing off and I’m giving niggas stage fright
And when I pop then I’m robbing, get my cake right
‘Cause with them shells I’m on ya’ tail like brake lights
Dose, I’m in the zone where I get it in
Ocean get me flowing and I’m blowing like an instrument
Serving up blow enough snow got me shivering
Riding dolo so alone I be killing them
Homes you could bring ya’ men
Chrome I’m delivering
Mossberg 5 knock bones outta ligaments
So when it’s drama my trigger banging I’m sparking shells
I keep a hammer for niggas thinking they hard as nails
Got it all for sale, dishing and jaws
Viagra with the crack, what you getting is hard
I don’t live by the law, I’m a menace to society
Moving bundles so I’m doing numbers like the lottery
Soldiers on the side of me, strong what I gotta be
AR cal slugs long as an Allen key
Steal like [?], cut mine’s fast
Keep a sawed-off like woodshop class
[?] might blast, chrome to ya’ cranium
Click-clack boom, turn his dome to a stadium
Another bullet dissecting ya’ wig, shit
I grip mics, hit the strip and approach a smoker
‘Cause I’m tryna make sales like Motorola
And I’m getting the profit
Keep a knot so big to the point it can’t fit in my pocket

[Verse 1: Math Hoffa]
I was supposed to battle T-Rex but he was scared
But since he ain’t here…..
This nigga look like a sucker
A stupid motherfucker right?
He the type to wonder why his son and his best friend look so much alike
I never been a pussy nigga, tell me what it’s like
Fronting like you hard, then running for ya’ fucking life
‘Cause when this lil’ nigga see the iron
You gon’ see him flying down the block like deer when they see a lion
You think he a gangster? I got some fucking news
Only thing he squeeze is his feet in his little brother’s shoes
I’m a Brooklyn nigga, no work then we go to rob
‘Cause I can get a gun way faster than I can get a job
You talking hard dog I hope you really ’bout this shit
‘Cause where I’m from we grab chains and try to punch you out the shit
And we’ll be gone ‘fore you touch the floor
And if ya’ chain’s fake, we find you and fuck you up some more
This rap shit, ain’t no competitors
This nigga’s just prey I’m the predator
I’m better than you, I be the best ‘fore I D-I-E
I got one ghostwriter nigga, B.I.G
See I’m possessed with this
Last engineer I did a session wit’
Tried to lock me up in the booth and call a exorcist
Any beat young Brooklyn a’ work off
I’m hungrier than Snoop would look with his shirt off
It’s two types of niggas in life
The niggas that find bitches and fuck ’em
And the niggas that-