Fake Ps
(Striker Radio)
(It's your time, oh yeah) (SJ)
(Coming through your hood, blowing up your street) (You are now listening to 23)
(Slime, slime slime, oh yeah)
(ARP Jody, my brodie, he with me)
I'm riding with Jaey, I know we gon' blow
We the last in this shit, bro really the hope
My Tris' like the cleaners, this shit like some soap
Black truck with them shooters, I feel like the Pope
Just got on my flight, I done caught me a load
On the way to the show, bitch, I'm clutching on coat
Don't call my phone if it ain't more than a Lamb'
Man, free all the men locked up doing overtime
Niggas riding the wave, can't keep up with the flow
It take seven days get my shit back on glow
If you reach, I'ma teach with this P in my coat
I really be weefing, I'm in love with the smoke
In the spot with my aunt, she in love with the blow
He got hit with that shit, made his ass do The Woah
Salute to the Navy, I ride with them bombs
Keep popping fake pills, won't go out like Quan
I'm scoring on pints, got a line on the drank
I just laced up for sliding like I'm at the rink
I was tapping that bitch and I ain't even blink
Just popped me a ten now I can't even think
He got hit with that shit, it turned your nigga pink
Bro serving them butter, we left shit in the sink
Got hit with that Glock, I don't even gotta wink
It's two in the morning, I'm looking for drank
I'm nodding off drank, bitch, I feel like I'm Lucki
Bro scored on some Tris' now we hitting the Dougie
I pop out their cut, now their whole hood screaming
Young Turnt back home, he the real young demon
I really got money, I ain't doing no faking
Your man got clipped and it just started raining
I'm the hope in this shit, I ain't saying I'm famous
They all on my dick 'cause a nigga done made it
I'm riding with Jaey, I know we gon' blow
We the last in this shit, bro really the hope
My Tris' like the cleaners, this shit like some soap
Black truck with them shooters, I feel like the Pope
Just got on my flight, I done caught me a load
On the way to the show, bitch, I'm clutching my pole
Don't call my phone if it ain't more than a Lamb'
Man, free all the men locked up doing overtime
Niggas riding the wave, can't keep up with the flow
It take seven days get my shit back on glow
If you reach, I'ma teach with this P in my coat
I really be weefing, I'm in love with the smoke
In the spot with my aunt, she in love with the bl—
He got hit with that shit, made his ass do The Woah
Salute to the Navy, I ride with them bo—
Keep popping fake pills, won't go out like Quan
I'm scoring on pints, got a line on the drank
I just laced up for sliding like I'm at the rink
I was tapping that bitch and I ain't even blink
Just popped me a ten now I can't even think
He got hit with that shit, it turned your nigga pink
Bro serving them butter, we left shit in the sink
Got hit with that Glock, I don't even gotta wink
It's two in the morning, I'm looking for drank
I'm nodding off drank, bitch, I feel like I'm Lucki
Bro scored on some Tris' now we hitting the Dougie
I pop out their cut, now their whole hood screaming
Young Turnt back home, he the real young demon
I really got money, I ain't doing no faking
Your man got clipped and it just started raining
I'm the hope in this shit, I ain't saying I'm famous
They all on my dick 'cause a nigga done made it
(Striker Radio)
(Slime, slime, slime)
