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Litty (feat. Murda Beatz)

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Liedtext
That go be

I just tell her lips on god

Now I'm for real

Aye I just shot a n**a on god

Now I'm for real okay

Huh I just popped a pill on god now I'm for real on god

I just f**d this b**h aye now I'm for real

I'm for real if niggas wanna touch shit okay

Pull up with a beat n**a get lit

I'mma tell my shit on the hood run up on

Me get poped full of spawn and let that boy talk

Slide a n**a like we sliding for us

Just shot a new n**a on the block never care never did

Smoke a n**a like a sick

Chopper saying like mariah

The buy up you on fire

I'm the shit like a diaper I'm the boss you get higher

In the field you get tired

True thyme no liars

Smoke some more get higher I do what my gun desire

I'm with my gang with a smoke them hella tree

He's a day you been I play with my steppers they go aye shit

And we gon' pull up on your block and leave your man's dead

And I fly with my n**a like lost is you knows my man's

You know

I'm a rock got a grig on my lap you know that b**h go bang

We not gotta stop we ain't worried about him

Cause they know that he talking he

Lame ain't they know I'm about to aid

And I'm kicking my shit

They know I'm the boss

In this b**h they speaking on me but they don't know shit

They know I'm legit

They know I ain't worried about you tryna run up this money

My n**a you know that money I pursue

Just tryna run it up just tryna run it up

Just tryna stack up my teeth

I'm just tryna run up just tryna run up

Just tryna stack up my cheese

Your b**h tryna f**k

Your b**h tryna f**k

I swear got the whole honey

And you know how I beat

I took that dollar a n**a now turn to

Uh smoking that dough like a feet uh uh

Bad b**h she knew to me uh smoking on kennedy uh huh

How about you choke on these uh huh

I don't have enemies these n**a p**y not friends to me

Broken heart I got the remedy

Kill a n**a now he cancer free

I got that gun with a special

My bag shoot a n**a had to get my get back I don't got time

I'm dumping the mag money so fat

Make me sad claws and swag no battle pass

Put your ass n**a let's get to the bag

Hit me a lick and I'm doing it bag firing with your b**h

After class do it again

And I do it again your b**h fell in love

Burberry pan call me check up

N**a let's go pin get to the back I'm tryna

Get me a win niggas still with us right

On the chin I never dowhenever again

I'm real aye smoking on cash oh god

Yeah I got that f**g pressure

Okay I'm f**g on your b**h oh

Aye yo

We gon' find a shoe

Go with your moves go with your moves rocky fit now

Fit now b**h I blew up my boss

You know I'm coming your days I was down on my ass okay

I don't do rocks almost I don't do I should call on god

Damn niggas percocets and lower town b**h bitch you always

B**h ice niggas know how I'm coming okay

Niggas ain't really on the gangsta shit

We need to stop

Stops n**a got pop

Pop last n**a got shot pop last n**a got drop pop right

Third on the block we can catch a f**g ones hey

Only real niggas in my session I got a pound of drove

Got a white girl slip a coke哎

They can't know okay

We gon' keep that on the low

Aye I'm a f**g pop my shit aye

You b**h aye I'm a passion to my role

He gon' go f**k your bitches

Doing the most later I'm blocking I leave her

I'm froze put me in this shit I'm not gonna fold

I'm a factor now

Bashes aye I just f**d a b**h I'm a curve

Watch it work aye I did the devil's worth I did it these

Labels still ain't learnt f**k around

Getting merged shout out to my n**a challenge he been here

Since birds

Litty (feat. Murda Beatz) von SG Tony 2x/Shaquees/Ynvg/Murda Beatz - Songtext & Covers