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letra de make me mad pt.1 - screwly g & bloodhound q50

[intro: screwly g]
mm (ki, you cooked this?)

[verse 1: screwly g]
f-ck my opps alive and f-ck the ones that’s dead inside the box (f-ck ’em)
shouldn’t have said my name, y’all got me mad, y’all got me out my top (these n-ggas done made me mad)
finna say some names, let’s keep it street and just not call the cops (shh)
hmm, alright, uh, n-gga say we can’t post at the store (what?)
last time your homie died, his b-tch ass died by the pump right on the floor (dumb-ass n-gga)
i heard fat quan just got his fat ass shot, missed out, we ain’t gon’ know (phew, phew, phew-phew-phew)
jb knew it was over when they bouncеd out on him and couldn’t even open his door (grrah, grrah, grrah)
huh, alright, uh, who thе f-ck is lil steve? that n-gga a ho (who the f-ck?)
tell a n-gga come to the m right now, we in front of this b-tch right now with ten poles (come on)
we chased tata down them blocks for years, we popped him and his bros (phew, phew, you know that)
n-ggas doin’ interviews on them safe-ass blocks and n-ggas know we ain’t know (safe-ass n-gga)
word from the trenches, did that vlog, so when we catch, we taggin’ his toe
lame-ass n-gga puttin’ people in the smoke on the ‘gram, i don’t care, we still gon’ score (f-ck 12)
i know an opp n-gga daddy died, hit eighty times, son still ain’t roll (you know that)
marmar got his dumb ass shot in the leg and crashed into a pole (crash dummy-ass n-gga)
huh, alright, uh, i’ll come to the ‘raq right now and get busy (you know that)
billi and swagg mad i ain’t wanna do a song, i’ll come slap the sh-t out billi (on foenem)
swagg, your ass a b-tch, lookin’ like type n-gga to go throw a party with diddy (old g-y-ass n-gga)
n-gga said everybody who dissed duck done died, but all his k!llers still livin’
let them n-ggas just roam the streets just long enough ’til they went to prison (old b-tch-ass n-gga)
that ain’t no disrespect to duck (at all), i’m just showin’ the n-ggas who diss is b-tches
n-ggas in the zone or hidin’ in vegas, bring your b-tch ass back to the trenches (stop hidin’)
them dudes tough on interviews for clout, but ain’t k!lled sh-t for they n-ggas (soft-ass n-gga)
n-ggas on youtube talkin’ ’bout street sh-t (the f-ck?), uh, i think yella snitchin’
n-ggas ain’t been to the ‘raq, tell them n-ggas come back, drop lo’, i’ll pull up bl!ckin’ (grrah)
n-gga from 73rd, not 63rd (the f-ck?), yella just wanted attention
soon as we got off the phone, he did the vlog, these old-ass n-ggas be trippin’ (old-ass n-gga)
hmm, alright, uh, we the main reason opps throw up a v (you know that)
we put an opp in the dirt, then spit on his grave, then went right back on a spree (b-tch)
ever seen a rich n-gga spin out a foreign or jump out the back of an amg? (grrah)
semi finna die from sickle cell, his ass in the hospital every week (old sick-ass n-gga)
alright, uh, broke-ass n-ggas ain’t talkin’ ’bout sh-t (you know that)
always screwly this and screwly that, tell them n-ggas get off my d-ck
bro, when buzz got shot, but not by opps, still made sure somethin’ got zipped (they know what happened)
n-ggas was on that safe-ass block, if we got that lo’, would’ve spinned that b-tch (grrah, grrah)
n-ggas recordin’ the day, upload when they gone, on tank, that’s scary sh-t (the f-ck?)
catch a n-gga ridin’ on the e-way, do him like tj, pull on side that b-tch (pew-pew)
i can name ten different n-ggas got hit when we spinned, but that’s how indictments hit (shh)
i thought twan was dead at westside foods, but he did what a possum did (that n-gga played dead)
we caught lil tae ridin’ the bottom in a srt, but he sped off fast (yoom)
jb special ed, we don’t give no f-ck, we still gon’ smoke his ass (old slow-ass n-gga)
lil tre made it to bend right there that day, shots fired, tired to clap his mans (pew-pew)
we came in there and we all had pipes, but them was the only two p-ssies that ran (made him use his feet)
none of ’em got off first, they ain’t even hit back, they couldn’t even box me in (you know that)
i felt the drill was sloppy, spinned back around and blew at they ass again (pew, pew, pew-pew-pew-pew)
lil tae blowin’ the drac’, i’m workin’ the arp, should’ve grabbed fn (pew, pew, pew-pew)
i don’t even why i argue with the opps, lil yai told me these n-ggas be fans (on foenem, i need to chill, blood)
huh, alright, uh, uh, n-gga try to run, we gon’ do him like ricky (uh-huh)
it’s me, opp, and 50 spinnin’ the 100s right now tryna catch a risky (grrah)
50 jump out with fifty, i jump out with sixty, big opp jump out with switchy (phew-phew)
before we went on a drill, pick up kyro, slid with 150 (kyro, what you on, drench?)
alright, uh, these n-ggas tryna hit where it hurt (okay)
billi say he smokin’ tank (the f-ck?), but don’t even know him, we finna flame up jerk
your b-tch ass don’t do sh-t but diss every time your friends get put in the he-rs- (n-gga, you better go spin)
n-gga, i’m rich as f-ck, i’ll drop a dub on you and get you murked (you know that)
[bridge: screwly g & bloodhound q50]
50, what you on, broski?
long live my brother, he probably k!lled your b-tch-ass brother
go

[verse 2: bloodhound q50]
go, these n-ggas ain’t did no k!llin’
i’m nineteen, up a zach lavine, give a f-ck about rap, i’m still out spinnin’
blood had called, said he tryna go spin, we can spin downtown, last two got lifted
speakin’ of lyfts, that b-tch-ass n-gga got caught in a lyft and looked up, he sh-tted
jv died at the store with his ass out, draco shots had him runnin’ and trippin’
spinnin’ the 5 with screw, he tryna bounce out broad day, we just keep on flippin’
kobe and tata nice as f-ck, every time they seen me, them n-ggas was friendly
8tre say we ain’t up on them, these n-ggas be laced, they forgot about clifton
i’m not a regular rapper, n-gga, ask about me, they know i got hats in the trenches
f-ck tj, we was trollin’ online, now his dumb ass dead, stopped a snake from hissin’
i know dre mad as h-ll, his b-tch-ass brother out here ain’t doin’ no spinnin’
ridin’ for his gang, got left in an uber, smoke tre tre, hit harder than tooka
i don’t give no f-ck if it’s kids in the whip, get caught, i’m clappin’, n-gga, go ask dooda
when i spin that b-tch, i don’t want no goofy, but i guess i’ll settle for mooka
67th the new 63rd, i clap ears together, n-gga, f-ck what you heard
if tae want you dead, then you goin’ in the dirt
ridin’ three deep, just me, jeff, and swerv, go

[outro: bloodhound q50]
long live my brother, he probably k!lled your b-tch-ass brother
f-ck the opps crazy
f-ck all my opps and f-ck all screwly opps
matter of fact, we got the same opps, f-ck ’em

- screwly g bloodhound q50

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