Listen (feat. DB Mj)

Yea, I ain't take no pictures, but the pistol start flashin' at 'em Oh, he talkin' out his fuckin neck? Aim at his adams apple Either me or my mans gone pop you, I will never scrap you Finna take a two up out this pint, and ima sell it after Bitch will tell you that she love you and she leave you, that shit fuckin backwards Like two hundred on the highway, and I'm swervin', cuttin up in traffic Nigga this a demon You owe me pape, then you can keep it, I don't fuckin' need it Hit that nigga right up in his lungs, he havin trouble breathin How you niggas broke and on yo ass? Give me a couple reasons How you broke? Give me a reason, with no excuse nigga Yea, I ain't in the mood, give me a reason just to shoot a nigga Listen, you better think with yo head, before you lose it nigga Twenty thousand in my pocket, that ain't nothin', I'm just coolin' nigga A double S C hoodie, I ain't cool with niggas Swear to god, my biggest pet peeve is you stupid niggas You got a gun just for show, you don't even know how to use it nigga Let bro say he richer than me, ima lose it nigga Aye man, you niggas gone have to come a lil' bit more harder We finna in this bitch makin back to back hits We done playin with you niggas, all that other shit dead Nigga We ain't finna talk, if it ain't 'bout no cheese This lil bitch talkin back, told her get on her knees They popped this nigga seven times I cant even believe he breathing Now the city goin This nigga popped 'em seven times, now the city knowin We rockin' RasingHell, can't forget that Bad Influence If my bitch wear another nigga hoodie then we gettin' into it You knew the dubs was in the party, why you let the opps in Its okay, we got Cam, we got the glocks in And we got Darius with us, and you know he on that hot shit And he said f*ck boxin', its a reason he brung the glock in Shit, finna take a trip and BRB, I said watch this You can take yo pick, I sell it all, you want Wok, Tris Drop top in the Lamb Truck, It got me top quick And brody take that shit off, it is not it Yea, uncy in the back, noddin' off cause his pop hit And I'm guaranteed to take a nigga off when the glock spit He ain't got no substance to his cheese, he is not rich This ain't even my chain, this my opp shit Shit, I'm finna go and spin on bro ass, I'll be right back I'll never ever fight my bitch, but we might scrap He was trollin', til we popped his homie, nigga type that Bro couldn't even look at me, I think he might rat Jumped a nigga granny, she ain't get the chance to fight back If its that, ima send my niggas, I wont type back All I had to do was run a route to get these thigh pads Ain't heard from the opps in a minute, with they dyin' ass