letra de k's & mac's out - q da fool
[hook : big flock]
when i’m sliding; bring the k’s and the mac’s out
every time i f-ck your b-tch, pull her tracks out
guns on the market, n-gga, bring your racks out
pray to allah, that lil brodie don’t crash out
overdose on percocets till’ i p-ss out
your baby mom in my crib with her -ss out
try to run down and lil n-gga, you’re -ss out
he think he a shooter cause’ he brought his mask out
call up q da fool he moving the packs out
my n-gga guapo get work from el paso
i’m exposing n-gga, bringing the facts out
rap ain’t working then i’m taking the crash route
run up on ya’ i ain’t pulling my mask down
and my cousin out here moving the smack now
n-gga disrespecting me he get smacked down
i’m a shooter i ain’t putting my strap down
[verse 2: q da fool]
n-gga’s talking but they never gone’ slide
n-gga’s watching so i keep my .45 – bah
one in his eye; n-gga try you could live in the sky
i was high, i was sleep in the sky
pop a xan and i shot up his ride
that boy went to court with a suit and a tie
oh my god, man that boy got to die
real n-gga; real n-ggas beside me
in the trenches i could trap out the alley
in the suburbs i could trap out the valley
had to score cause’ a n-gga was fouling
rich n-gga, hustling really my talent
500 xans and i’m finna’ get more
10 pounds, i got 5 in the floor
2 with my b-tch; 3 with my wh0r-
cooking up molly, i’m finna’ cook more
i cleaned his -ss up, yeah i did my ch0r-s
my brother got locked cause’ he was kicking doors
i gave his main b-tch intercourse
i been balling, n-gga no court
gas came in; got bars by the door
can’t marry a b-tch cause’ i’m gone’ get divorced
these drugs i love, and these streets i adore
n0body safe if i ever go poor
study true religion i know allah and lord
if i don’t got the glock then you know i got a source
[?] got locked for robbing a store
then came a temp and the charged me some more
rich n-gga i feel bad for the poor
rich n-gga i got a bags on the floor
rich n-gga i feel bad for the poor
rich n-gga i got a bags on the floor
[hook : big flock]
when i’m sliding; bring the k’s and the mac’s out
every time i f-ck your b-tch, pull her tracks out
guns on the market, n-gga, bring your racks out
pray to allah, that lil brodie don’t crash out
overdose on percocets till’ i p-ss out
your baby mom in my crib with her -ss out
try to run down and lil n-gga, you’re -ss out
he think he a shooter cause’ he brought his mask out
call up q da fool he moving the packs out
my n-gga guapo get work from el paso
i’m exposing n-gga, bringing the facts out
rap ain’t working then i’m taking the crash route
run up on ya’ i ain’t pulling my mask down
and my cousin out here moving the smack now
n-gga disrespecting me he get smacked down
i’m a shooter i ain’t putting my strap down
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