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letra de 300 dead oppz - fyb j mane

[intro]
aye, big fyb b-tch
i ain’t tryna talk
y’all know what the f-ck is goin’ on, don’t talk to me
big fyb, i thought thataye, this how imma do this one

[verse]
i’m ridin’ through the ‘raq smoking’ la cause that rapper dead
this a real rapper weed i’m tired of smoking’ tire-head
n-ggas talking crazy, but i know y’all heard my dead opps
kobe got his ass caught, j-money took a headshot
catch an opp, we wack an opp, b-tch you can’t out run red dot
lost my f-ckin’ man, rg to a tire shop
ever since that f-ckin’ day, won’t catch me without my d-mn glock
where the f-ck is waldo? i ain’t seen em’ got his ass dropped
they found nuski stuffed up in a car just like they did pac
caught a goofy tryna buy some shoes, he got his ass shot
they say “hey j mane what you smokin’?” b-tch 300 dead opps
where the f-ck is fredo? buried at, so i can dig em’ up
heard he overdosed off lean d-mn, wish i hit him up
mr. disrespectful, problem child i never gave a f-ck
n-ggas act like b-tches straight, madea pull your panties up
big fyb b-tch, if you ain’t gang then you can’t hang with us
tookaville to archiegang, b-tch i’m never changin’ up
lil steve got hit up on king drive and he ain’t gettin’ up
memo steady makin’ disses, b-tch go pick you brother up
caught la comin’ out that studio and then they lit him up
la probably still be livn’ lil durk shouldn’t have gassed him up
f-ck your favorite rappers, n-ggas’ p-ssy, imma smack them up
[chorus]
free the opps up out the county, b-tch i wanna line em’ up
free the opps up out the county, b-t-h i wanna light em’ up
i don’t know who to smoke (b-tch), i don’t know who to smoke
they got so many dead n—as, i don’t know who to smoke
i don’t know who to smoke (b-tch), i don’t know who to smoke
they got so many dead n-ggas, i don’t know who to smoke

[verse]
stello got hit in his sh-t
lil rob got hit with the mop, f-ck 600 o’block
we comin’ through with them chops
if they standing’ outside, we gonna shoot up the block
j-money got shot in the face, he was walking down rhodes and we made him a day
goofy we don’t play better watch what you say
he dissin’ the gang he get k!lled in a day
shootas in the cut like paper
we got glocks with them lasers
we catch ’em, we smoke ’em, no passin’ no favors
i’m smokin’ t.roy 300 the flavor
i’m tired of these rappin’ ass n-ggas
they wanna be gangsta, i swear that these n-ggas some lames
you thinkin’ sh-t sweet, you mention the guys
you think it’s a gang, get k!lled for a name
every time they make a diss anotha’ oppa gettin’ dropped
t. roy tried to run but he couldn’t make it to the car
shytsplack gang get on yo ass, you won’t make it very far
all my n-ggas bdk and this sh-t’ll never stop

- fyb j mane

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