Message (feat. Stayfully Dt)

(Gotta give that boy at CCM, a 100 bands) I been tryna keep it bool, but niggas ass gon' end up missing Hearing all this shit they said they gon' do to me, they aint never gon' kill a nigga I was known for popping top since I was a little nigga Alright, I was known for getting guap since I can remember Alright, all you niggas bitches on my dick since bert, done signed a deal I pop a perk, I mix the X with it, I like how that shit feel We really in the streets, we spin shit like a wheel I love when my opps die, that shit give me the chills Bitch, I'm gon' grab the chopper, bro gon' grab the wheel Bitch, we'll kill a nigga soul, but don't need no pills Bitch, I'm like Tyreek, I'm in the field, I'm probably in the Hills Yeah, that rapper do all that killing in his songs, aint never did no drill He don't know how it feel, he ain't never take no soul for real Niggas say they slid me, how the f*ck you ain't kill for me? I got foolies, they out they mind, they quick to drill about me Bitch, I'm a legend around this bitch, and when I die, they gon' remember me Niggas getting on my nerves, I need a yerk My Glock an SRT, I call this bitch a skrt I'm tired of babying bitches, know Bert still flirt I pray I catch a opp in public, I swear to God I go berserk We dont shoot from deep, I get close blood up on my shirt Everybody want a tote a switch, I know that choppa gon' do the work You ain't never see a gangsta turn into a bitch, them hollows make em twerk They asking for that old Bert like social, nigga, there he go Choppa in my Amiri Jeans, got me walking pigeon-toed BNB full of gang, we sipping drank until we get a lo I am not a rapper, that other dude a certified capper Heard about that lil' attempt, you ain't no shooter nigga, keep on rapping We the opposite My gang some shooters, they known for popping shit Off a lot of blicks, don't get us mad, we'll park the whip Ain't gon' lie, ain't trying to squash shit, bitch, we all in When a nigga end up dead, they screaming aww man, box em in Alright If you aint get active in them cars, nigga, you ain't got no say-so Everybody wanna a tote switch, told Bert just pass the Draco Gotta get back for Troub, pussy still owe us one from Fazo Matt told me to chill, to stack them M's, get rich and lay low Get rich and lay low Niggas barking on that net until we pop that mango Foolies everywhere in traffic, you can't go where we go Trying to spoof a custo, make a load Back to back, in splizzy broad day, he aint make it home Pussy stop acting like you killing, you ain't take a soul Foolies out and we in traffic Quit to lay em down, just like a match When I shoot a switch, this hit em faster Crackas get behind us, we gotta scratch em And we ain't throw no guns, they gotta catch us All high speeds, this here the fastest