0 Fucks
๐ต 2184 characters
โฑ๏ธ 2:04 duration
๐ ID: 10245024
๐ Lyrics
Nigga on foes, we be fucked up, O-T-D
But if a nigga touch us get fucked up
Huh? I tuck my gun, never tuck my chain
Ask my nigga Bambi out in Texas, I'm on everything
Lot of drugs, lot of thots
No names, just the top
Lot of niggas wolfin' over Twitter, almost got 'em popped
You a shooter? No, I think not, let me get a knot
I will give 'em watts, now he shocked, think outside the box
No fucks gave
Walk around wit' Ks
No fuck given
Yo' bitch I'm gon' take
No fucks gave
Put her on a blade
Wockhardt sippin', not no more though, I'm okay
Aye, Sour D, smokin' on that gas on the hourly
I be wit' the plugs and connects like a router be
Actually, yo' hoe in my trap, she got it out for me
Get the quarter back and make that lil' hoe run a route for me, uh
You a whole lotta flex, I'm a lot of bet
The tec flip that fuck nigga like a omelette
I keep shootin' til' the spirit dead too
Got the billy if you actin' silly, you're a dead goose
Aye, uh, trappin' every fuckin day
If you push around these parts I need percentages and pay
Don't cooperate
Gon' have to make yo' shit another way
He wit' the cops today, gon' have take yo' shit another day
Call 'em Clark Kent how that nigga throw the cape on
I call her Bart Simp', just a bitch for me to skate on
Hoe, I'm part pimp, don't got no shoulder you could lay on
But I'ma still slide like a quarter in a payphone
It ain't no souvenir here, go some silver shit to take home
His ass actin' like a cast
Bullets finna break bone
Where the stash at?
The Johnny cash at?
Give it up, we down to hurt not down to Earth
Lab rats stitch 'em up
Daggers in the duck, try take a jab at us and you get stuck
Like a dumb fuck, you the product of a condom bust
Put yo' dollas up
Pick a fade, we gon' line 'em up
Niggas so sus they disgust me, I vomit up
Uh, boy, you beef a lot
Nah, I mean you tweet a lot
You'll hold a bitch purse 'fore hold a Glock
You'll smoke ya own supply 'fore you get it off
He ain't jump off the porch so we shot 'em off
Ain't no warning shot, nigga, we gon' sweep the block
That nigga woofin' like he hungry, he can eat a shot
You better pray to yo' God or get what Jesus got
Line 'em up, then we pop, bitch, connect the dots
But if a nigga touch us get fucked up
Huh? I tuck my gun, never tuck my chain
Ask my nigga Bambi out in Texas, I'm on everything
Lot of drugs, lot of thots
No names, just the top
Lot of niggas wolfin' over Twitter, almost got 'em popped
You a shooter? No, I think not, let me get a knot
I will give 'em watts, now he shocked, think outside the box
No fucks gave
Walk around wit' Ks
No fuck given
Yo' bitch I'm gon' take
No fucks gave
Put her on a blade
Wockhardt sippin', not no more though, I'm okay
Aye, Sour D, smokin' on that gas on the hourly
I be wit' the plugs and connects like a router be
Actually, yo' hoe in my trap, she got it out for me
Get the quarter back and make that lil' hoe run a route for me, uh
You a whole lotta flex, I'm a lot of bet
The tec flip that fuck nigga like a omelette
I keep shootin' til' the spirit dead too
Got the billy if you actin' silly, you're a dead goose
Aye, uh, trappin' every fuckin day
If you push around these parts I need percentages and pay
Don't cooperate
Gon' have to make yo' shit another way
He wit' the cops today, gon' have take yo' shit another day
Call 'em Clark Kent how that nigga throw the cape on
I call her Bart Simp', just a bitch for me to skate on
Hoe, I'm part pimp, don't got no shoulder you could lay on
But I'ma still slide like a quarter in a payphone
It ain't no souvenir here, go some silver shit to take home
His ass actin' like a cast
Bullets finna break bone
Where the stash at?
The Johnny cash at?
Give it up, we down to hurt not down to Earth
Lab rats stitch 'em up
Daggers in the duck, try take a jab at us and you get stuck
Like a dumb fuck, you the product of a condom bust
Put yo' dollas up
Pick a fade, we gon' line 'em up
Niggas so sus they disgust me, I vomit up
Uh, boy, you beef a lot
Nah, I mean you tweet a lot
You'll hold a bitch purse 'fore hold a Glock
You'll smoke ya own supply 'fore you get it off
He ain't jump off the porch so we shot 'em off
Ain't no warning shot, nigga, we gon' sweep the block
That nigga woofin' like he hungry, he can eat a shot
You better pray to yo' God or get what Jesus got
Line 'em up, then we pop, bitch, connect the dots