Soul

Lyrics:

(Yeah, yeah)
(Yeah, fuck with broke nigga)
(Broke niggas, I can't fuck with broke niggas)
(Yeah, I can't fuck with broke niggas)

I say B-R-O-K-E he can't fuck with me (Can't fuck with me)
Yeah I told that boy call my nigga T if he want smoke with me (He want smoke)
Yeah cash grabbing, ticket master, air this bitch we loading greens (Loading greens)
Yeah that pussy nigga up in my face and he get folded clean (Damn)
Yeah I put that nickel up to that dime call that ten five (Ten five)
Ay we don't fuck with twelve, you switching boy you switching sides (Switch sides)
Ay busting shots up at your crib we told them "Come outside" (Brr)
Ay you pressing up on my nigga, know we toting by, ay (Toting by)
Yeah that broke talking crazy we got smoke with him
Ay you put your hands up on my niggas you gonna lose a limb
Ay you are not the dope man, I call my nigga Tim (Tim Stakked)
Ay boy you smelling fishy, need some clean deodorant (What, damn)

Ay hit that nigga, Bruce Lee, nigga where my tongs
Ay hit that bitch up from the back while she sing my song
Ay he ain't snitching, I shot his ass, now he talking Tom (Damn)
Ay all my bitches fighting over me, they can't get along (Damn, what)
Ay fucking with me I don't reckon, you get hit with that fire (Damn)
Glock gonna change a nigga face up like we switching them tires (Damn ,what)
Got my pay stubs, got my check and that shit getting wired (Got my racks, damn)
Got your laces stuck up in your steps, yeah you getting tied (What, damn)

I say B-R-O-K-E he can't fuck with me (Can't fuck with me)
Yeah I told that boy call my nigga T if he want smoke with me (He want smoke)
Yeah cash grabbing, ticket master, air this bitch we loading greens (Loading greens)
Yeah that pussy nigga up in my face and he get folded clean (Damn)
Yeah I put that nickel up to that dime call that ten five (Ten five)
Ay we don't fuck with twelve, you switching boy you switching sides (Switch sides)
Ay busting shots up at your crib we told them "Come outside" (Brr)
Ay you pressing up on my nigga, know we toting by, ay (Toting by)
Yeah that broke talking crazy we got smoke with him
Ay you put your hands up on my niggas you gonna lose a limb
Ay you are not the dope man, I call my nigga Tim (Tim Stakked)
Ay boy you smelling fishy, need some clean deodorant (What, damn)

(B-R-O-K-E he can't fuck with me) (Damn, ay what)

Broke Boy

Lyrics:

(Fuck you ran on it)
(Nigga fuck you stand on it)

(Yeah)
(Yeah yeah)
(Ooo)

I don't give a damn nigga
Nigga fuck you stand on it (Yeah, yeahh)
He talk crazy we ran on him
I count bread throw a band on him
Yeah we on top of the gang we planned on it
Glock finna burn finna leave a whole tan on him
Chop got a beam and a flame no hands on it
Walking on that block to your crib we ran on it (Hahh)
Playing with my gang nigga know you ain't stand on it

Yeah drive in that bitch on random
Yeah I'm going on ghost like phantom
Yeah you acting like a kid throwing tantrums
Yeah we pull up on the block jumping high gonna land on it (Yeah, yeah)
Yeah I ain't wasting no time nigga stand on it (Ooo)
Yeah I don't fuck with broke niggas put a band on him
Showing out the world on my grind got a plan for him
Yeah ima say it for the time you in danger
Yeah I can't save that hoe ain't a ranger
Yeah you tryna press me get folded like paper
Yeah you better watch out for your hoe ima take her
All that bark no bite know it's what you make it
Yeah I'm floating on the mic finna make them bangers
Yeah I'm hanging with my boy at the stu in Atlanta
Finna sign all they mixtapes know they all fanned out
When I pulled up to the function know they all done ran out (yeahh)
You in danger
You know I ain't keeping shit sweet don't say it
Yeah I'm bout to feed a nigga glock bodega
You ain't see the signs she from hell from satan
Yeah I'm spending all the guap everyday can't take it
You play with me get cooked up like bacon
Frying in the pot stir fry gonna bake it
You hating on my grind all the way you in danger

(Yeahhh)
(Yeahhhuh)
(Ooooo)
(Ooooo)
(Ahhhhh)
(Drive in a bitch on, yeah drive in a bitch on random yeah)
(Drive in a bitch on random yeah)
(Drive in a bitch on random yeah)

I don't give a damn nigga
Nigga fuck you stand on it (Yeah, yeahh)
He talk crazy we ran on him
I count bread throw a band on him
Yeah we on top of the gang we planned on it
Glock finna burn finna leave a whole tan on him
Chop got a beam and a flame no hands on it
Walking on that block to your crib we ran on it (Hahh)
Playing with my gang nigga know you ain't stand on it
Yeah drive in that bitch on random
Yeah I'm going on ghost like phantom
Yeah you acting like a kid throwing tantrums
Yeah we pull up on the block jumping high gonna land on it (Yeah, yeah)
Yeah I ain't wasting no time nigga stand on it (Ooo)
Yeah I don't fuck with broke niggas put a band on him
Showing out the world on my grind got a plan for him (Hahhh)

Danger

Lyrics:

(Yeahhh)

Sitting back count my racks yeah (Count my racks)
Yeah I hit my label, you know I need my check yeah (Ooo)
Yeah (Skrt)
Hoe you ain't all that yeah (Ain't all that)
Yeah we getting up to that top you know we next yeah
Went too fast up in that coupe, you know they can't see us, yeah (Can't see us)
You know I'm dripped in chrome, broke niggas can't see it, yeah (Can't see it)
I live for my soul all the way, and I follow Jesus, yeah (Amen)
You know that we mopped your whole block you getting straight cleaned up

Yeah, streets of rage, walk em down I keep my pistol tight (Yeah woah)
Yeah I don't make songs with these rap niggas they all suck I ain't gonna lie (Oo)
Yeah my shooters they switch up on your block we hit you in your eye (In your eye)
Yeah we making a hit every day on the top of the charts do it every time (Woah)
Yeah counting these racks they see it
Yeah these broke niggas they can't see it
Fuck with my niggas and we gonna T up (T up)
Yeah I don't pay attention, yeah I can't see it
Yeah signing that contract know we read it
Yeah your hoe for the gang all the way she teaming (Teaming)
Yeah pray for your soul to the Lord you need it
Yeah open up there like a book gonna read it (Yeah)

Yeah when I'm going outside Ima keep my pistol
You say you for the gang lil nigga don't switch up (Don't switch)
Bout to drop these hoes finna hit my bitch up
I'll sign your shirt, I don't do no pictures
I tote with that glock, yeah we gonna get you (Get you)
Yeah wipe a nigga nose down with some tissue (Tissue)
Yeah lag on the switch but you know it's gonna hit you (Hit you)
Got shot in his chest, lil nigga who hit you?
We in war we on attack (Ohh)
Chop hit him down, now he passing
Got my switch up, now it's lagging (Woo)
Get with my fame live in lavish
Got that guap you know we taxing
Yeah post my tape and I got traction
I ain't worried bout y'all finna get my racking
Put him in a box ship him off in a package (Yeahh)

Sitting back count my racks yeah (Count my racks)
Yeah I hit my label, you know I need my check yeah (Ooo)
Yeah (Skrt)
Hoe you ain't all that yeah (Ain't all that)
Yeah we getting up to that top you know we next yeah

Yeah, streets of rage, walk em down I keep my pistol tight (Yeah woah)
Yeah I don't make songs with these rap niggas they all suck I ain't gonna lie (Oo)
Yeah my shooters they switch up on your block we hit you in your eye (In your eye)
Yeah we making a hit every day on the top of the charts do it every time (Woah)
Yeah counting these racks they see it
Yeah these broke niggas they can't see it
Fuck with my niggas and we gonna T up (T up)
Yeah I don't pay attention, yeah I can't see it
Yeah signing that contract know we read it
Yeah your hoe for the gang all the way she teaming (Teaming)
Yeah pray for your soul to the Lord you need it
Yeah open up there like a book gonna read it (Yeah)

(Yeah, yeahh)
Sitting back count my racks yeah (Count my racks)
Yeah I hit my label, you know I need my check yeah (Ooo)
Yeah (Skrt)
Hoe you ain't all that yeah (Ain't all that)
Yeah we getting up to that top you know we next yeah (Yeah)

Savior

Lyrics:

Mmm
Ahhhh (Yeahh)

Yeahhh (Damn)
I feel like Guts, go berserk in this bitch (Yeahh)
Yeah that bitch want some bands told her to twerk in this bitch (Yeahh)
Yeah pop out fresh what I'm worth in this fit
Yeah I like what she doing when she fuck use her hips (Yop, mhm ok)
Yeah my niggas making all that money like we supposed to (Yeah)
Niggas mad we ain't fucking with them, I don't really know you (Yop, mhm)
We got unlimited funds and guns, I'm gonna have to show you (Yeahh)
Yeah I'm bout to make a play, finna put him on a poster
Yeah, I feel like Guts, go berserk in this bitch (Yeahh)
Yeah that bitch want some bands told her to twerk in this bitch (Yeahh)
Yeah pop out fresh what I'm worth in this fit
Yeah I like what she doing when she fuck use her hips (Yop, mhm ok)
Yeah my niggas making all that money like we supposed to (Yeah)
Niggas mad we ain't fucking with them, I don't really know you (Yop, mhm)
We got unlimited funds and guns, I'm gonna have to show you (Yeahh)
Yeah I'm bout to make a play, finna put him on a poster

Yeah talking bout you got that lil bitch you don't even know (Damn)
Yeah fucking with my crew we finna pop out like a toaster (Yeah)
Yeah that weak ass tape ain't get no streams yeah I told you (Yeah I told you)
Yeah big bad wolf, drive by your crib blow the house down
Swerve in the whip with the za and we smoke pounds (Ah)
Yeah your bitch she a OD bop, she blew the whole house
Yeah I punch a nigga bird chest now he screaming out loud
Fat nigga get ejected touching bitches, you got four fouls
Yeah 100k for my wrist watch, you know I bought it (I bought it)
How you broke and 45? Old nigga yeah you got it (You got it)
Put a switch and a beam on the glock like a rocket (Damn)
Got your on the phone, she on the bed, I'm on the top fucking (Ay what)
Yeah shoot the glock got a lag switch you know my shit ducking (Brrsh)
Yeah my bro said he finna drop a tape, I said "Shit, fuck it" (Fuck it)
Yeah that nigga ain't no rat, shot his head, you ain't see nothing (Damn)
Yeah my bitch don't play, RBF she be mean mugging
Yeah down low hit you with the glock, send you straight to Heaven
Yeah my niggas tote with guns, Ak's and them 67's (67)
Yeah my nigga took your knock and your chain, you don't get no leverage
Yeah I blew the nigga house down, insurance, he need Progressive (Where my phone)
Yeah hit that nigga with my car, yeah I'm finna curb on him (Finna curb)
Yeah I punch a nigga guts out, finna go berserk on him (Go berserk)
Yeah my song for the hoes in the club, they finna twerk to it (Finna twerk)
Try to teach you how to make some racks, nigga you ain't learn nothing (Damn)

Yeahhh (Damn)
I feel like Guts, go berserk in this bitch (Yeahh)
Yeah that bitch want some bands told her to twerk in this bitch (Yeahh)
Yeah pop out fresh what I'm worth in this fit
Yeah I like what she doing when she fuck use her hips (Yop, mhm ok)
Yeah my niggas making all that money like we supposed to (Yeah)
Niggas mad we ain't fucking with them, I don't really know you (Yop, mhm)
We got unlimited funds and guns, I'm gonna have to show you (Yeahh)
Yeah I'm bout to make a play, finna put him on a poster
Yeah, I feel like Guts, go berserk in this bitch (Yeahh)
Yeah that bitch want some bands told her to twerk in this bitch (Yeahh)
Yeah pop out fresh what I'm worth in this fit
Yeah I like what she doing when she fuck use her hips (Yop, mhm ok)
Yeah my niggas making all that money like we supposed to (Yeah)
Niggas mad we ain't fucking with them, I don't really know you (Yop, mhm)
We got unlimited funds and guns, I'm gonna have to show you (Yeahh)
Yeah I'm bout to make a play, finna put him on a poster (Yeahh)

Berserk (feat. TCLC)

Lyrics:

Yeah (What the fuck)
(On that gang)
On that gang nigga (Damn)
We from Heaven yeah, we are not the same nigga (Amen, yeah)
Got that glock hit your chain nigga (Hit your chain)

Yeah, roll back get up out that lane nigga (Out that lane)
Yeah these young niggas suck, man they all sound the same nigga (Damn, what the fuck)
Yeah my niggas straight dogs in this bitch great dane nigga (Bark nigga)
Yeah two bullets to his chest he ain't ok nigga (Brr, brr)

Yeah big body bendz when I slide switching lanes nigga (Damn)
Yeah heard he talking tough finna rearrange his brains nigga (What the fuck)
Yeah FNF tucked bet this shit got range nigga (FNF)
Yeah he ain't make it out if he speaking on my name nigga (Speaking on my name, what the fuck)
Yeah hold on, I can't save her (Damn)
Yeah dropping all my hoes, baby girl I ain't no player (Love my bitch)
Nigga speak up say it with your chest nigga say it (Fuck nigga say it)
I got money on my mind ain't no time for a hater (Yeah I ain't got no time)
Yeah getting to the guap with my niggas we gonna chase it (Yeah get that guap)
Hella bands in my pocket flex out like a banquet (Yeah, what the fuck)
Got my plug through the pack, wrap it up, I finna tape it (Yeah tape it)
Yeah I told her hit my line when she done with the basics (Woah)
Yeah these broke ass niggas in my face it don't make sense (Why)
You know he ain't got a dollar to his name he just make cents (Got no guap)
Nigga talk loud but he broke that's a dead flex (Yeah dead, nigga)
Yeah hating on my grind cut you off ain't no fake friends (Damn, what the fuck)
I can't fuck with these rap niggas (Niggas suck)
Glock got a generation, finna hit your dad nigga (Hit your dad)
Yeah spreading all this guap in your face and you sad nigga (Boo hoo)
Yeah flexing all my chains and I'm smoking on this black, nigga (Smoking on that black, boy)
Pulled up to the O, know we there wit real trap niggas (Trap talkin')
Yeah your homeboy a snake, yeah you better watch your back nigga (Watch your back)
Yeah, two shots get wiped off the map nigga (Brrah)
Yeah, I need a trophy in this bitch where my plaque nigga (Where my plaque)
Yeah real gang, and we hang with real trap niggas (In that trap)
Yeah I ain't got no time broke niggas on my back nigga (On my back)
Feed your ass a cake in a room with some fat niggas (What the fuck)
Drive by got my glock on my lap nigga (Yeah on my lap nigg)
Yeah that's my ball, get your shit packed nigga (That's my ball)
Yeah once he stop posting on the next you know it's wraps nigga (Yeah know it's wraps)
Yeah glock got a nigga running like he on that track nigga (Yeah nigga running)
Nigga better watch your mouth and your step, watch your back nigga (Watch you back nigga)
Yeah real east coast nigga, real trap nigga  (Real trap)
Nigga stop posting on the net then you know it's wraps nigga (What the fuck)
Yeah we from Heaven and you know we going back nigga (Amen)

(Yeah, real east coast nigga, real trap nigga)

Midwest Chain

Lyrics:

(Yeahhh)
(We gone leave you dead)

Getting this guap I had it yeah
I spin that block like Saturn yeah (Yeah, yeahh)
We going to the top don't matter yeah
She 21 that girl savage yeah (Woah)
Got an attitude, who you mad at yeah?
We counting all this bread live and lavish yeah (Lavish)
Baby girl you know I ain't passive yeah (Nope)
I smoking that za gone pass it yeah (Whew)
You had your time, now we finna take over
Yeah pulled out the glock finna pop like soda
Yeah you can't fuck with me and these lil niggas know
Yeah bust down watch I flex that rollie (Rollie)
Swag, chip a nigga tooth like token (Woah)
Yeah I drive in the boat and my niggas gonna row it
Yeah I throwing that cash on hoes it's flowing (Whew)
Can't fuck with lame niggas don't condone it

I remember you saying I ain't making it out
Now you hit my phone you just want that clout
Don't hit my line get out my way
I ain't got no time nigga took that route
It's my way we doing what I said
We stacking that paper finna count this bread (Yeah yeah)
Yeah DND go get left on read
You fuck with my niggas we gone leave you dead (You dead)
Dead (We gone leave you dead)
We gone leave you dead
We gone leave you dead
We gonna count that bread
We pulled up with all them racks that we gonna spend nigga
Yeah I'm finna take over the game you heard what I said nigga (Said)
Girl it's gonna be ok wipe that tear from your eyes don't shed baby (Don't shed)
We doing this day by day on the grind you know we next baby (Next)

Getting this guap I had it yeah
I spin that block like Saturn yeah (Yeah, yeahh)
We going to the top don't matter yeah
She 21 that girl savage yeah (Woah)
Got an attitude, who you mad at yeah?
We counting all this bread live and lavish yeah (Lavish)
Baby girl you know I ain't passive yeah (Nope)
I smoking that za gone pass it yeah (Whew)
You had your time, now we finna take over
Yeah pulled out the glock finna pop like soda
Yeah you can't fuck with me and these lil niggas know
Yeah bust down watch I flex that rollie (Rollie)
Swag, chip a nigga tooth like token (Woah)
Yeah I drive in the boat and my niggas gonna row it
Yeah I throwing that cash on hoes it's flowing (Whew)
Can't fuck with lame niggas don't condone it

Take Over

Lyrics:

Ain't no time for these niggas (I ain't got no time for these niggas)
I ain't got no time for these niggas, yeah

Got no time for these niggas
You playing with my dawg, why you lie to these niggas? (Lie)
You missing all my calls see you riding with niggas (Woo)
You playing with my money, know I did a lot to get it
You know that you my dawg, wouldn't lie to you nigga (My dawg)
I'm picking up your calls, finna ride by you nigga (Ride)
You'll always be my brother I would die for you nigga (Die)
We come from different mothers, but I'm tied to you nigga

You always saying keep my head up when the pain came through (Yeahh)
We was broke on the streets now the gang came through (Came through)
If I make it out first, you gone make it out too
Got a couple hundred plaques, finna top the gang too (Plaques)
We some bad young niggas, swerve switching lanes too (Whew)
Know the bag finna hit it, now we gonna rain through
Yeah now all my niggas up, drip we got chains too
We still the same young niggas, yeah it never change you
If I got then you got it (Then you got it)
Since kids we were locked in (We were locked in)
They keep doing all that talking (Let that nigga talk)
They finna call when we got it (You know we finna get it)
They keep looking at our pockets, we get it done (Pockets, done)
When we was broke we would eat the same crumbs (Same crumbs)
You know I'd never go, make it with my day ones
We turn into a wave, yeah they getting rained on (Yeah, woah)
Count that cash on the way

Got no time for these niggas
You playing with my dawg, why you lie to these niggas? (Lie)
You missing all my calls see you riding with niggas (Woo)
You playing with my money, know I did a lot to get it
You know that you my dawg, wouldn't lie to you nigga (My dawg)
I'm picking up your calls, finna ride by you nigga (Ride)
You'll always be my brother I would die for you nigga (Die)
We come from different mothers, but I'm tied to you nigga

(You my brother, I would ride by you nigga)
(You my dawg, I would ride by you nigga)

Brothers

Lyrics:

Yeah it's late baby, you need to find you way home (Home)
Yeah she gonna take my jacket, baby you can't leave it on (On)
Yeah my girl a lil ratchet, lil shorty she gonna hold her own (Hold her own)
We smoking that za we packing, you know we staying in that zone

I know you right about it
Yeah I know you right about it (Woo)
Yeah you gonna die about it
Girl you think you right about it
Is you gonna ride or die?
Pull up in that drive by (By)
Bae I know you lie (Lie)
Got me finna write about it (Write about it)
Swag or drip
Swag or drip (Woo)
Swag or drip
Yeah, swag or drip (Yeah yeah)
Swag or drip
Swag or drip
Swag or drip
Swag or drip

You got swag or drip?
Yeah we getting up to that top, we came from rags to riches
Keep your lil hands off my whip, it took a bag to get it
Yeah we hitting that by the way, you know I had to get it
I was gonna fuck with shorty until I seen her past (Past)

I need like ten bad hoes in my section (Woah woah woah)
I think I need like ten Draco's for protection (Woah woah woah)
That boy wanna talk we can't leave without stretching it
Bend that bitch over like exorcist
Diamonds on my necklace
She come in like hey hey hey
She come fuck on the gang if she want to
Smoking on dang dang dang
You cannot cover this side if you want to
It never change change change
I'm gonna stay the same
Feel like I'm venomous with the black on the fence (Woah woah woah)
Feel like it change when the VVS hit

I know you right about it
Yeah I know you right about it (Woo)
Yeah you gonna die about it
Girl you think you right about it
Is you gonna ride or die?
Pull up in that drive by (By)
Bae I know you lie (Lie)
Got me finna write about it (Write about it)
Swag or drip
Swag or drip (Woo)
Swag or drip
Yeah, swag or drip (Yeah yeah)
Swag or drip
Swag or drip
Swag or drip
Swag or drip

Swag Or Drip (feat. 32sw)

Lyrics:

Gang, gang
Yeah, my nigga Taz (My nigga Taz)
Play with us we gone leave you in the past (In the past)
Yeah sitting back in my chair and count my racks nigga (Count my racks nigga)

Yeah sitting up at that top you know we top notch (We on top)
Yeah with my niggas in the field we playing hop scotch (Yeah)
Yeah the whole team been getting guap while we dodge cops (Yeah, what the fuck)
Ice in my wrist, neck froze like we punch clocks (Brr)
Yeah caught you lacking we don’t talk we just punch opps
Yeah we eating good everyday like out that lunch box (Damn)
Glock to his head, hit him down now his heart stop (Stop)
Finna curb a nigga, swerve back and pull up in my park spot (Park spot)
Yeah you know your hoe for the streets and she got mileage (She a bop)
Yeah we really out here trapping in the streets and they gone top file it 
My nigga hit your head straight dog nigga Rottweiling 
Yeah that nigga tryna compete with the gang we gone top notch it (Damn)

Yeah fighting them demons cause' they messing with my head nigga (With my head)
Yeah tote glocks pull up in your hood we leave you dead in it (Leave you dead)
Yeah, ain’t no talk we just up, let it spread nigga (Boah, boah, boah)
Yeah, got all this pain I been sipping on this med nigga (On this med)
Yeah, we don’t play, we get active till he dead nigga (What the fuck)
Yeah, I got a chop, leave a opp where he bled nigga
Yeah, I’m chasing guap I ain’t worried ab what he said nigga (Hell naw)
Write that nigga off like a book with my lead nigga (In my book)
Know I’m the king of the streets and they can’t check me (They can't check)
Yeah, we hit your top take your chain and your neck piece (Hit your top)
Yeah, bust shots at your gang, hit your bestie (Yeah hit your boy)
Yeah, all these hoes at my show rocking out we at Coachella (Damn, what the fuck)
Yeah too much guap up in my pockets need a duffle (Yeah, I got too much guap)
That nigga barking like a dog, finna give that boy a muzzle (Give that boy a muzzle)
Going 160 on the road, yeah I need to buckle (Swerve in that coup)
Yeah we caught you by surprise now we coming out that tunnel (On gang)

Yeah sitting up at that top you know we top notch (We on top)
Yeah with my niggas in the field we playing hop scotch (Yeah)
Yeah the whole team been getting guap while we dodge cops (Yeah what the fuck)
Ice in my wrist, neck froze like we punch clocks (Brr)
Yeah caught you lacking we don’t talk we just punch opps
Yeah we eating good everyday like out that lunch box (Damn)
Glock to his head hit him down now his heart stop (Stop)
Finna curb a nigga, swerve back and pull up in my park spot (Park spot)
Yeah you know your hoe for the streets and she got mileage (She a bop)
Yeah we really out here trapping in the streets and they gone top file it 
My nigga hit your head straight dog, nigga Rottweiling 
Yeah that nigga tryna compete with the gang we gone top notch it (Damn)

Top Notch

Lyrics:

(Yeah, damn)
(Ahh)

Yeah pull up on that gang we gone ten file it (ten file)
Damn sitting on that hit we on straight diamonds
Yeah, ay bust shots two times we on the same timing
Damn, give a good contract, you know we straight signing
Damn, yeah we speeding in that whip fuck them brakes nigga (Damn)
Yeah we getting all that guap you know we paid nigga
What the fuck, two shots at his feet now he on skates nigga
Yeah seven bullet holes up in his chest he ain't ok nigga
Yeah your bitch she be outside and around she don't date nigga
Yeah money fat as fuck, finna put it on my plate nigga
You can't sell me no damn bribe it ain't gone change nigga
Got a switch it gone bust two glocks hit your face nigga (Brr)
Yeah, most wanted in these streets on that case nigga
Yeah got that fire on my pole finna bait niggas (What the fuck?)
Yeah all that talking like a dog nigga rottweiling
Yeah most wanted in this bitch they gone top file it (They gone top file it)
Yeah if my opps shoot my we gone top notch it (We on top)
Play my tape on the speakers and your bitch naughty (Got your bitch)
Finna cuck his bitch out and he gone sit salty (Sit salty)
Damn nigga be yourself nigga you not me (You not)
Yeah tryna wipe me off the map, know they all scheming (Damn)
What the fuck, hit our block you know we gone clean it (What the fuck)
Broke niggas in my vision and I can't see it (Bitch)
Tryna wipe me off the block it's gonna take season
Yeah all these hoes at my show and they straight fiending (Damn)
Yeah my nigga caught a hat, he a straight demon (Damn)
Damn, bought 10k shoes and I don't know the meaning (Ah)
What the fuck two niggas want from me? Get your chain snatched
I done dropped two hits in a day and they gone hate fast (They gone hate fast)
Blow the bitch tummy out and she gone tuck (She gone tuck)
Yeah that hoe can get an autograph, ain't no touching (Ain't no touching)
This a footlong flamethrower, ain't no muzzle (The fuck)
Yeah, six feet from my body ain't no hugging (Damn)
Yeah, all them niggas know the deal ain't gonna test me (Ain't gone test)
Yeah with my ball kicking shit like I'm Messi (Like I'm Messi)
Yeah if your bitch tryna fuck she gone let me (She gone let)
Yeah, niggas know they damn place ain't gone check me (Ain't gone check, damn)

We Paid

Lyrics:

Mmm, why would you lie?
Yeah

Stop playing with me (Stop playing)
Why you always calling me?
Baby what you want from me? (Me, yeahh)
I don't wanna fall asleep
Sneaking around like a creep
Doing the things I wanna, things I wanna (Things I wanna)

Yeah, and I don't even care cause' I like it like that
Playing with your heart, cause' I want it like that
You talking crazy, you don't know me like that
Know me like that
Know me know me like that
Why would you lie to me?
Why you keep on trying me?
Keep me in the dark, now I'm breaking hearts (Yeahh)
Hearts
You a work of art, I knew it from the start
I told you don't call my phone you know it (You know)
Girl pack your bag, you can get up on the road
And you know I'm reaping what I'm sewing
I'm checking all my texts, paragraph in my phone (Woo)
Girl I'll give you one more chance don't blow it (Don't blow it)
Why would you lie to me? (Why would you lie?)
Why you keep on trying me?
Woah (Why would you lie to me?)

Why you always calling me?
Baby what you want from me? (Me, yeahh)
I don't wanna fall asleep
Sneaking around like a creep
Doing the things I wanna, things I wanna (Things I'm tryna)
Do, yeahh
Yeahh

What You Want (feat. Kyra)

Lyrics:

Yeahh
Yeah, that's how we do it baby (That's how we do it)
Yeah, know these niggas want the tool baby (Want the tool)
Yeah, you know this shit too new baby (Ah)

Yeah, I'm from the streets baby (Damn)
You ain't gotta worry girl, you can rock with me baby
Yeah nigga play with you we gonna put him on some sheets baby
Yeah you ain't gotta think about that song it's a leak baby

Yeah
Like damn (The fuck)
Yeah bitch text me that she want to leave I don't care
Yeah walking down my block nigga you know I can't spare you
Yeah put him on a shirt, hang it up and gone tear it
Yeah and she tryna turn it up I don't mind
We done spin up on that block we gonna do it every time
Girl I'll really take you down everyday that ain't no lie
Dress you down in some chrome, glow you up with a diamond
Yeah bust shots, we playing air tag nigga (Brr)
Yeah rage in the streets busts shots where you at nigga
Yeah shooting out the glock, miss his head it got a lag switch
But a beam to his back, pull the trigger now his back itching (Damn)
Huh? I ain't listen to your ass what you said nigga?
Yeah reading out the bible with my niggas, break some bread with them
Yeah breaking the bed with two hoes they ride it like a sled nigga
Yeah taking it to the top with the gang, yeah you better nigga
Yeah niggas all on my dick always hating, where your life nigga?
Yeah I ain't got time for the bitch I got the hoes, I'm just tired of them
Yeah talking about them racks you be getting, why you lying nigga?
Damn cooking up all these songs with my brothers and we frying niggas
Damn beating up all these niggas (Ah)
Like I'm Mike Tyson
You ain't heard all that shit I said, nigga you finna slide nigga?
Yeah cranking it to this beat with my niggas we gone ride with it
Yeah be flying out all my bitches nigga you better get your flight

Yeah, I'm from the streets baby
Yeah you ain't gotta worry girl, you can rock with me baby
Yeah nigga play with you we gonna put him on some sheets baby
Yeah you ain't gotta think about that song it's a leak baby
Yeahh
I'm from the streets baby
Yeah you ain't gotta worry girl, you can rock with me baby
Yeah nigga play with you we gonna put him on some sheets baby
Yeah you ain't gotta think about that song it's a leak baby (Damn)

Streets Of Rage

Lyrics:

Yeah
Ay pull up to my hood, find your way out
Better get up out my spot this ain't no take out
Glock shooting up at your feet, hit your waist down
Yeah I need more, I been moving with no brakes now
Let me get this off my chest I ain't got no time to waste now
Yeah praying for all y'all souls, know we need it
Ay I'm finna pick up my bible, I'm gone read it
We don't need nothing in this world, but we need Jesus
Look, streets cold I'm finna slide with my heater

My nigga caught a case, now he talking through that speaker
Fast life, got me running from my demons
God in my life, cause' if I fall I'm gonna need Him
Yeah nigga play with us we gonna pave him on that cement
Know we counting up seven figures you can't see this
Opps lurking on me, I had to move a lil different
Yeah I ain't beefing on that net, I just mind my business
But if it's pressure, you know we apply it with precision
When you sign that contract you for the gang there ain't no switching
I play my cards the right way when I do my shuffle
I don't do no attempts, if it's up then you know we busting
Up top, ain't no one on ones, we slide with a couple
Mask on tight you can't see who it was, can't see nothing
Leave all my opps stretched out like they doing lunges
Know if you broke as fuck get out my face, delete my number
Real trench baby, you know I was raised in that jungle
Glock sound like thunder, finna make that whole block rumble
I used to move packs, I had to work in that duffle
Now it's straight rap but I still got that shit tucked though
Had to cut ties with lame niggas we straight cutthroat

Baby you don't know
On and on
My dreams and nightmares roaming
Baby bring me closer
To home
To home
Home
Home

Yeah racks in my denim, got me walking like I'm limping
Nigga got a forty, call it grant how he pimping
I'm cut from that cloth all them niggas ain't built in
Cross me ima send a soul straight to the ceiling
Teeth white, I smile on these niggas I straight glisten
Yeah praying up to the Lord cause' this life get risky
Glock on my side in case a nigga moving iffy
Yeah all black truck, slide through ain't no pity
Yeah leave a whole block taped off you in my city
They say I'm a magician the way this shit getting tricky
Yeah, pray to the Lord, this life to cold
Yeah, stick up on my lap, in case an opp to bold
I done ran out of chances, and the streets don't fold
My heart turning black, you know I can't trust no soul
Money on my mind, you know I can't chase no hoe
And I'm just keeping it real, you know we stay in that zone
Yeah watch out for my friends keep away from foes
Slide through they block, leave it empty and they froze
I was in the field, double back where the real don't go
Yeah only thing I fear is the Man in control

Baby you don't know
On and on
My dreams and nightmares roaming
Baby bring me closer 
To home
To home
Home
Home

Soul

Kyrie