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(I got Hitman on the beat)
I ain't got no love for her
I been my head like
(Marcuss, you killin' the beat)
I don't even be doin' this shit
I don't be wantin' to never
Ayy, fuck you and fuck you too
Murder gang

I ain't tryna say a thing, nigga, I can barely think
I say I quit for seven days, and then I'm back on drank
I been tryna calm down, nigga, you should do the same
Still ain't puttin' these guns down, all I know is leave a stain
Hold on, I got a reason 'bout why I came through bleedin'
Bitch, this for my brothers up in jail, and they can't see me
Real gang baby, dealin' with these demons, it ain't easy
He say now I go crazy, pistols blazin', straps got built-in beams in

If I said it, bitch, I mean it
Gettin' dirty with my clean ass
Double R, back then, it used to be a blue Jag'
Dirty bitch just want cash, fall for it, my wrong ass
Play games, I can't pass
Only thing I want is you smashed
Dirty bitch, you ain't my ho, don't call my phone with your dog ass
You fuckin' 'round with the other side, don't be inside when that car crash
4.0 flat, with my hood on, got a twelve gauge like I'm Milat
Nawfside, better not spin through that
Pussy nigga won't make it back, XD and a fully MAC
Youngin' out the window like, "I told ya" (bitch, I told ya)
Tryna knock your motherfuckin' head from off your shoulders
You want beef? Okay, I been doin' this for too long, son, bet
I say, "Murder, you know we gon' get you gone, son," stretch

I ain't tryna say a thing, nigga, I can barely think
I say I quit for seven days, and then I'm back on drank
I been tryna calm down, nigga, you should do the same
Still ain't puttin' these guns down, all I know is leave a stain
Hold on, I got a reason 'bout why I came through bleedin'
Bitch, this for my brothers up in jail, and they can't see me
Real gang baby, dealin' with these demons, it ain't easy
He say now I go crazy, pistols blazin', straps got built-in beams in

Ain't with me, I say that they all around for the reason
Oh Lord, tell 'em, "Fuck 'em," now they say that they don't need me
They can't get that money on they own, so they subpoena me
Hold on, broke bitch, my top back, one opp black, red scenery
I'm the one who pulled up luxury machine
I'm the one who made them youngins go step on him
Fuck that nigga can't rep off me
Murder, we gon' take that shit to 3rd degree
Talkin' at one time, stretch three
Talkin' at one time, kill three
FN-45 with a hammer, Drac' with a drum, thirty-round banana
They blow that strap back after back
If one connect, that bitch gon' slam 'em
Red tips we gon' handle him
Pallbearers, I'ma hand 'em him
My thoughts gone, whole life just temp'

I ain't tryna say a thing, nigga, I can barely think
I say I quit for seven days, and then I'm back on drank
I been tryna calm down, nigga, you should do the same
Still ain't puttin' these guns down, all I know is leave a stain
Hold on, I got a reason 'bout why I came through bleedin'
Bitch, this for my brothers up in jail, and they can't see me
Real gang baby, dealin' with these demons, it ain't easy
He say now I go crazy, pistols blazin', straps got built-in beams in
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Duration00:02:55
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Copyright ©Kobalt Music Publishing
WriterGregory Sanders Jr., Jason Goldberg, Kentrell Gaulden, Marcus Jermaine Gotch Jr.
Lyrics licensed byLyricFind
AddedAugust 17th, 2022
Last updated
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