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letra de flame em, pt. 2 - jo bandz

gang
grra
doa doa
gang
gang gang gang
grra
grra
gang gang
gang gang gang
[verse 1: jo bandz]
first thing first n— suck my d-ck
and it’s still burn [?] in the spliff
mentioning my dead that’s how you get hit
f-ck that sh-t n—-, we gon’ switch up the whip
how y’all spinnin’ the sev? y’all ain’t never do sh-t , like
go and pick up a gun , like
mentioning jb that’s a ticket to death
smoking lotti, dummy , don’t be next
n—-s really soft , y’all really aquafresh
spinning through the sev and hollows hit ya neck
n—- ain’t a score that we ain’t upset
just ask the opps they treat us with respect
doa the motto please don’t forget
call up lil’ gotti, aiming for your chest
who the f-ck is keem he ain’t on sh-t
married to the tracks , n— never bеnt
lookin’ for me, n—- on the bench
sugarhill what? y’all n—-s rеally kids
shot in ya’ head , still ain’t neva’ spin
still free nazzy loc’ out the pen
solid as a rock , punching n—-s brims
we the real flock, glocks that extend
“boy we don’t run , boy we don’t trip”
that n—- cap, was runnin’ fast , rick
i was fourteen catching real cases
lil notti with me , moving real anxious
trigger finger itchin’ , n—- we ain’t brainless
p-ssing me off , now im upset
ballin’ like diddy , n—- i’m a vet
still live long jb on the set
sev block, doa , we up next
[?] slidin’ up with the tec
don’t spin in no v’s n’ get flipped
we the real opp , putting in pain
shot by a dyk- , n—- you a lame
begging me for cash , n—- it’s a shame
doa the gang, n—- know my name
chillin’ with the opps you gonna get flamed

[verse 2: set da trend]
you got shot by a dyk- , n—- you a lame
mally that’s my brother, for him i’mma flame
i ain’t with the dissin’ i just leave you missin’
get wrapped like a gift n—- this ain’t christmas
when i’m off the xannies i be feeling different
me and kay on the hit b-tch and we ain’t missing
me and jo back to back we like mike and pippen
so long , cus jo look right he still cl!cking
clip ain’t see through but it’s a thirty
[?]’ , shootin like he curry
see the opps i bet he show no mercy
woo got poked they got up in his jersey
[verse 3: kay flock]
say we smoke all deads, we want all red , we gon’ die with that sh-t
like, what?
on the back i throw off peds
walk up on legs , when i’m firing sh-t, like
we see gz, n—s know what i do
they know what time it is when i bend through, like
i done boomed at his old heads, that’s a code red
sha gz i’m looking for you
stop ducking when i’m bending through
shoot broad day that’s nothing new
spinnin’ through early , you got no excuse
n—- be capping on rap what he do

- jo bandz

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