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letra de test my shotta 2 - fyn twinn

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hook

up and let it buss right out the back of the wagon

we tryna smush that n-gg- flat , b-tch we handin out static

dove off the scene with 33 , my youngboy shot up his address

up the stick from out the mattress , this a new typa ratchet

i been movin like a demon , this a new typa savage

he want that action i could make it happen (tell that b-tch im tryna blaze em off)

talk it like he livin , his city know thats that crazy talk

his fitted gettin hit with bout 20 , that’s enough to go around

verse

brand new f-ckin metal , push the pedal to the camp

that n-gg- talkin like he bout it , best believe that n-gg- stamped

when it’s up there b-tch it’s stuck , it ain’t no chance it’s comin down

issa must yo bro get touched , i keep it tucked for when i’m ridin round

issa must yo bro get flushed , i bet the reaper excited now

solved the issue? man give that hoe a tissue (b-tch im tryna wipe em down)

they ain’t f-ck with me before but i bet you them b-tches like me now

ak bussin with no discussion my younginlike the sound

up the fn and stretch em , we bound to get yo mans out

my n-gg- dishin out static hit me up you want a handout

my n-gg-s hot just like the block when a n-gg- step on a antpile

been steppin since a youngin this keep the lil baby agile

and b-tch im spinnin bout whatever , i just need me a lil reason

they say steppa gang be steppin like it’s leg day all season

up that pipe , plumber style and i have that lil n-gg- leakin

ian squashin beef at all , we ain’t stoppin till we even

when i’m spinnin i mean twistin and turnin the f-ckin steerin wheel

banana clip up on me , it ain’t sh-t to get you peeled

most of these n-gg-s f-ckin fakes , only a quarter of em real

they’ll stab you in yo back and scoop yo pack for a lil meal

that glizzy’ll eat a n-gg- , had to let that b-tch exercise

stand down or stand up tall like a stop sign

he talkin to me ruthless? bake the n-gg- to a potpie

and we stay wettin they block up , we ain’t bout to let the block dry

sizzlin up on it b-tch i like to let the block fry

that glock’ll make em lose his focus , we thought he was c-ckeyed

and you droppin yo bag? you best believe ian gone drop mine

can’t sleep unless the pillow chillin right up on the glock 9

hook

steppa gang just bounced right out the back of the wagon

we tryna smush that n-gg- flat , b-tch we handin out static

dove off the scene with 33 , my youngboy shot up his address

up the stick from out the mattress this a new typa ratchet

i been movin like a demon , this a new typa savage

he want that action i could make it happen , b-tch i’m tryna blaze em off

talk it like he livin like my diddy won’t come split his jaw

yo city know a n-gg- livin livin , b-tch we f-ckin raw

outro

b-tch we f-ckin raw

b-tch we too official

totin glocks and muhf-ckin pencils

and i put that onna system

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