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letra de boss bitch freestyle - gmebe bandz

i done been in the field, i got battle scars
got your b-tch on my d-ck for a couple bars
i was rapping and packing on boulevards
now i’m getting this check off of metaphors
got some trophies, that’s what the gold medal’s for
got my foot on they neck like a pedal boy
and my hand gripping that mac-11 boy
you a crook, you get booked, what you telling for?
i’m a felon, can’t even go to mexico
but i’m still posted up by the texaco
i got day ones, you cross me, they let you know
you could ask em i stay down and never told
every song my real life like an episode
mama tell me she worried, i tell her don’t
i be talking that sh-t and still getting dough
we in traffic, got choppers with telescopes
you could come to my block we got h-lla dope
we got fn’s with beams and move better c-ke
but i’m tryna stay clean had to let it go
i was stuck in them streets, i was h-lla broke
got my mama so sick over me
’cause she know we don’t play for the beef
i don’t need no protection, my weapon i keep
i can see a whole mil’ in the trap off the d
i could do this myself got my own mind
in the county they k!lling for phone time
you ain’t seen no real h-ll ’til you on 9
shooting p-ss out yo’ eyes ’til you go blind
and this sh-t so f-cked up man, gave shorty my brand new j’s
they gon’ be on his feet ’til he die of old age. d-mn, sh-t so crazy
i’m back on the bullsh-t like benny
b-tch, your pockets look thinner than jenny
every whip that i ride gotta be tinted
cause baby i’m hated by many, feeling like 50
go get that strap and get busy
it ain’t one b-tch i love more than my glizzy
watch how you wearing yo’ hat in my city
cause you will get whacked for a penny, you and your granny
i want some cash, count it up fast
just to go throw it all over some -ss
hop in that rover and do the whole dash
pull up on [?] with a key in the stash
glock on my lap, never needed to stash
it ain’t no hiding when we on his -ss
put a g on yo’ -ss never needed a bag
my shooters’ll do that for free to yo’ -ss
choppers by the bricks and d at my pad
fingerprint, ain’t no key at my pad
‘member when i used to sleep on a pad
hoes ain’t want me they was leaving me sad
me and onion we was beating that slab
ain’t too many really think i would spazz
you don’t like me you gon’ keep getting mad
i think your b-tch took a like to my swag
she a cougar so we f-ck in the jag
feeling super i just popped me a tag
mike amiri jeans all over the mag
i seen my homie switch over some bags
come from the jungle there’s snakes in my gr-ss
i got a feeling they plotting to smash
hide in the bushes all night ’til he p-ss
jump out and spray every shot ’til he crash, teach you a cl-ss
i could show you how to play with them pots
cook it and double the cake with them rocks
mama said that she gon’ pray for my opps
cause she know what we gon’ do with them mops
too many snitches this sh-t getting hot
too many b-tches there’s too many thots
play with her t-tties her panties gon’ drop
my shorty 11 ain’t never had pops
he look up to me so i teach him a lot
he a respectful lil’ boy with a glock
he ain’t got no problem bussin’ yo’ top
cause he done witnessed some sh-t you wouldn’t watch
he done been in situations you not
he done watched his uncle trap out the spot
i done had to get this sh-t out the mud
i done packaged sh-t and sent in a box
yeah, aye, i need some guap, aye, yeah
you know the rules, to the game, if you play and get popped
ducking the swat, running from task
stay on my -ss, i still gotta get me a bag

- gmebe bandz

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