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letra de death of 150 - fyb j mane

these n-ggas claiming that they drilling, stop the f-cking capping
yo homie died and you ain’t turn up, you just post his status
if you’s a k!ller n-gga, show me, b-tch i’m never lacking
k-kemo with me so its [?] keep a ratchet
big bdk, f-ck the opps these n-ggas f-cking f-ggots
i heard queen von was in the county f-cking with the f-ggots
ay free g-skinny, treat 600 like they’re target practice
and lil t roy he tried to run, they shot him out his jacket, b-tch
in the party smoking von to the face
and j-money, he got hit up too, shot all in his face
f-ck the cops, heard they looking for me, montae switch the plates
got yo b-tch with me, she gon eat this d-ck up like a steak
smoking all these dead opps, b-tch i think i’m going blind
i smoke la, i smoke chino mixed with vito all the time
bow bow, shots fired, waldo in the day time
man they k!lled his ass so quick i think his ass was still online
fyb the label b-tch, i’ll never sign, unless its for the millions
all i see is dollar signs
outstanding gang member i feel like david in his prime
50 shots up in the drac, cook a n-gga like some fries
we the real fyb b-tch we don’t know them other guys
they like j mane man what happened, all i know that n-gga died
i be with wooski ‘nem for real, we do real homicides
might just smoke your ass on camera, everything get televised
n-gga mention tooka name, you get k!lled or paralyzed
ar-15 with this cooler, get your dumbass [?] a ride
[?] car riding around the hood, we spray your ass like pesticide
i might dig fredo up, just to record it on my live
i could never love a thot, b-tch you must be out your mind
f-ck a b-tch and kick her out, make her take the red line
yea i gave that ho my number, when she call i hit decline
tryna f-ck me for some clout, b-tch you gotta f-ck the guys
i’m a f-cking shooting guard, these n-ggas on the sideline
p-ssy n-gga check the score, we smoked [?] at halftime
and this glizzy drop a n-gga like a beat on punch line
lil steve got it in his chest, couldn’t even say no last lines
i don’t f-ck with 6ix9ine or no motherf-cking snitch
heard he told on his homies, on some tay600 sh-t
one of my homies tell on me, i’m going out like melly, b-tch
you can label me the greatest but i won’t go like pac or big
two cars [?]
you can’t get too close to duck or foenem shooting off you
got some heavy ass artillery [?]
might just slide through the o and k!ll everybody but the kids

- fyb j mane

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