K's & Mac's Out

When I’m sliding; Bring the K’s and the Mac’s out
Every time I fuck your bitch, pull her tracks out
Guns on the market, nigga, bring your racks out
Pray to Allah, that lil brodie don’t crash out
Overdose on Percocets till' I pass out
Your baby mom in my crib with her ass out
Try to run down and lil nigga, you’re ass out
He think he a shooter cause' he brought his mask out
Call up Q Da Fool he moving the packs out
My nigga Guapo get work from El Paso
I’m exposing nigga, bringing the facts out
Rap ain’t working then I’m taking the crash route
Run up on ya' I ain’t pulling my mask down
And my cousin out here moving the smack now
Nigga disrespecting me he get smacked down
I’m a shooter I ain’t putting my strap down
Nigga’s talking but they never gone' slide
Nigga’s watching so I keep my .45 — Bah
One in his eye; Nigga try you could live in the sky
I was high, I was sleep in the sky
Pop a Xan and I shot up his ride
That boy went to court with a suit and a tie
Oh my god, man that boy got to die
Real nigga; Real niggas beside me
In the trenches I could trap out the alley
In the suburbs I could trap out the valley
Had to score cause' a nigga was fouling
Rich nigga, hustling really my talent
500 Xans and I’m finna' get more
10 pounds, I got 5 in the floor
2 with my bitch; 3 with my whore
Cooking up Molly, I’m finna' cook more
I cleaned his ass up, yeah I did my chores
My brother got locked cause' he was kicking doors
I gave his main bitch intercourse
I been balling, nigga no court
Gas came in; Got bars by the door
Can’t marry a bitch cause' I’m gone' get divorced
These drugs I love, and these streets I adore
Nobody safe if I ever go poor
Study True Religion I know Allah and Lord
If I don’t got the Glock then you know I got a source
got locked for robbing a store
Then came a temp and the charged me some more
Rich nigga I feel bad for the poor
Rich nigga I got a bags on the floor
Rich nigga I feel bad for the poor
Rich nigga I got a bags on the floor
When I’m sliding; Bring the K’s and the Mac’s out
Every time I fuck your bitch, pull her tracks out
Guns on the market, nigga, bring your racks out
Pray to Allah, that lil brodie don’t crash out
Overdose on Percocets till' I pass out
Your baby mom in my crib with her ass out
Try to run down and lil nigga, you’re ass out
He think he a shooter cause' he brought his mask out
Call up Q Da Fool he moving the packs out
My nigga Guapo get work from El Paso
I’m exposing nigga, bringing the facts out
Rap ain’t working then I’m taking the crash route
Run up on ya' I ain’t pulling my mask down
And my cousin out here moving the smack now
Nigga disrespecting me he get smacked down
I’m a shooter I ain’t putting my strap down