ain hearin dem prod ziyan n sev

voodoo

lyrics:
I was feelin lost but now im feelin found
pain in my blood but watch me rock out
I dont give a fuck
rockin out like beck but I still keep me yea a tec
flexing bands just got these hoes just so obssesed
follow your heart follow your chest
posted with my dog know we rockin out like johnny test
all my love shorty trynna cast a hex
I just want sum love bby I dont want no sex
dont care if your a freak still gon need that consent
yeah talkin on my bros like a wood you get flexed
like a wood get flexed up 
in the hood I spark up
keep the blicky tucked yeah I keep it in my parka
inlove with my wings but I used to be a larva
told her watch out no I dont play with karma
stay with that crop yeah im feelin like a farmer
never fit in always felt like a foreigner
secret to be human can you teach me yeah the formula

far from a larva *prod aquasoldat*

@novemblur
@edwardskeletrix
thanks for 500

damn prod edward skeletrix

@icaunnnic
@darrymmilk
@boolymon
@1twovrt

timbuktu w/ marteya (boolymon n twovrt)

#baeuugotmetite

bankroll💸 prod dreamnote & fashionist

clips w
@tickledicklefickle
@intendtohurt

@iynlane sexthereal august clips w friends #sexthereal

PROD HIMSELF

@Yahigawa @Yahigawa @Yahigawa

[Intro]
Oh yeah, that's it
Yeah (Hoodrich)
Yeah

[Chorus]
Aye, my slime hit you from the neck up
Niggas thinking that they shit, they not even fucking next up
Eliantte on my fuckin' chain, that shit the best, yeah
Yeah, you's a fucking bitch, my bro cut your chest up
If we talking money, bitch, go put your checks up
If we talking money, bitch, go put your checks up
Put your checks up, aye, All day I flex, yeah
Aye, new text, what?
This bitch give me neck, what?
Aye, yeah, fuck
Hop in a jet, this bitch want Fendi
Run this shit back, bitch, nigga, I ain't ready
Run this shit back, he scared, I'ma get him

[Verse]
Real Task Force, my niggas gon' send 'em, what
What's on my jeans? That's denim, what
What niggas so mad made me send 'em? (Uh)
Stand on that shit, bitch, stand on it
I met up with the opps, them niggas mad, I switched 'em down
Like, "Girl, there ain't no opps, girl, what you scared 'bout lookin' 'round?"
I stare right down the corner, that shit hit your ass, you downed
Down, downed, down, downed, downed, downed  

[Chorus]
Aye, my slime hit you from the neck up
Niggas thinking that they shit, they not even fucking next up
Eliantte on my fuckin' chain, that shit the best, yeah
Yeah, you's a fucking bitch, my bro cut your chest up
If we talking money, bitch, go put your checks up
If we talking money, bitch, go put your checks up
Put your checks up, aye, All day I flex, yeah
Aye, new text, what?
This bitch give me neck, what?
Aye, yeah, fuck
Hop in a jet, this bitch want Fendi
Run this shit back, bitch, nigga, I ain't ready
Run this shit back, he scared, I'ma get him

[Verse]
Real Task Force, my niggas gon' send 'em, what
What's on my jeans? That's denim, what
What niggas so mad made me send 'em? (Uh)
Stand on that shit, bitch, stand on it
I met up with the opps, them niggas mad, I switched 'em down

FASHIONIST - CHAINGANG

evrytime

@astrmani @1twovrt @boolymon

he got backdoored in his own hood smh

lyrics:

i heard issa opp down, better go and dig em up 
i got my stick, i walk ‘round, i might go and hit em up
dat boy got hit wit glock round, better go and pick em up 
dat boy not from my town, ima go and stick em up 

yuh, huh, catch that nigga ima stand over em
bitch youn need dem gens, better hand over em
damn i want that nigga gone, put a band over em
50 rounds in dis chop, finna slam over em 

backdoored in yo own city, damn dat shit insane
if it was me i wouldn’t hit his neck, i’d shoot em in his brain 
hell nah dis ain’t no p80 glock, lil bitch i kept it plain 
32, i ain’t swoop, onnat block i hit a stain 

fuck a kirk, counting franklins, bitch these bands endless
i ain’t even finna shoot, pistol-whip dat nigga senseless
nigga flex onna net, walk down i take his necklace 
send my lil bro onna drill, yea dat nigga my apprentice 

i catch a nigga do em like kirk, headshot, blood spillin on his shirt 
im outside nigga ima lurk, if he talk down den he gettin hurt 
im finna slide ion need a perc, i catch a opp, put em inna dirt 
i see a fuck nigga ima murk, switch onna chop, ima make it work 

like, fuck yo homie he dead 
fuck yo homie he dead 
fuck yo homie he dead 
fuck yo homie he dead
fuck yo homie he dead 
fuck yo homie he dead 
fuck yo homie he dead 
fuck yo homie he dead

stand over em prod twovrt & boolymon

mani

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