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letra de "smoke first" - lil skrrt 11

[intro: lil skrrt 11]
b-tch, f-ck your dead homies, we don’t play fair
eastside, posted in the trap, heavy smoke in the air
(hah, southside on the track, lil’ b-tch)

[chorus: lil skrrt 11]
n-ggas know how skrrt get down, b-tch, i shoot with no warnin’
mask on, glock out, got the opps in the mornin’
f-ck your gang, you ain’t slidin’, y’all just typin’ and talkin’
hollow tips in this stick, leave a f-ck n-gga coughin’
drums on the chop, b-tch, that sh-t keep knockin’
catch a goofy in the whip, all the windows get toppin’
i ain’t never gave a f-ck, that’s the life that i’m walkin’
on the block with my bros, it’s the reaper that’s stalkin’

[verse 1: lil skrrt 11]
f-ck your mama’s house, we spray that sh-t
told your b-tch bend over, then i made her l!ck d-ck
shoot a n-gga broad day, then reload that clip
i don’t talk to no cops, i don’t snitch on sh-t
you a b-tch, you ain’t steppin’, you just flashin’ a stick
we was robbin’ as kids, now we rich off a brick
i don’t beef on no net, we gon’ catch you in person
put your dumbass in a he-rs-, leave your whole fam hurtin’
i been sippin’ on drank, dirty cup got me swervin’
if a opp on my block, best believe we gon’ purge him
this a warzone, b-tch, ain’t no motherf-ckin’ mercy
say my name in a song, get your dumb ass buried
[chorus: lil skrrt 11]
n-ggas know how skrrt get down, b-tch, i shoot with no warnin’
mask on, glock out, got the opps in the mornin’
f-ck your gang, you ain’t slidin’, y’all just typin’ and talkin’
hollow tips in this stick, leave a f-ck n-gga coughin’
drums on the chop, b-tch, that sh-t keep knockin’
catch a goofy in the whip, all the windows get toppin’
i ain’t never gave a f-ck, that’s the life that i’m walkin’
on the block with my bros, it’s the reaper that’s stalkin’

[verse 2: lil skrrt 11]
b-tch, i’m really with the sh-ts, i ain’t scared of no beef
catch an opp by the store, put his ass on a tee
we was raised in the gutter, all we know is the streets
big smoke in the air, that’s a dead opp treat
i be laughin’ at your homies, y’all ain’t slid in a week
pull up deep in a van, hoppin’ out with the heat
f-ck a b-tch, then i dip, i don’t trust no freak
if a n-gga want static, he get dropped on beat
got a drum on the glock, that’s a fifty-round feast
we gon’ spin two times, make your block look weak
i don’t talk on the phone, feds tap my line
catch a rat, lay him flat, leave him dead in the grind

[chorus: lil skrrt 11]
n-ggas know how skrrt get down, b-tch, i shoot with no warnin’
mask on, glock out, got the opps in the mornin’
f-ck your gang, you ain’t slidin’, y’all just typin’ and talkin’
hollow tips in this stick, leave a f-ck n-gga coughin’
drums on the chop, b-tch, that sh-t keep knockin’
catch a goofy in the whip, all the windows get toppin’
i ain’t never gave a f-ck, that’s the life that i’m walkin’
on the block with my bros, it’s the reaper that’s stalkin’
[outro: lil skrrt 11]
b-tch, keep playin’, we gon’ slide on sight
f-ck the other side, it’s a war every night
n-ggas know how i live, i’ma shoot, not fight
first single, b-tch, and i did this right

- lil skrrt 11

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