Crazy Story

Known to let that MAC fly just like my nigga Doe
I'ma let this MAC fly with this one, hold on
I said, I'ma let that
A'ight come on, a'ight
(Von, Von)

Got a drop on this flexing nigga, he from Tennessee
I had a thot she be with the shits, she told me where he be
I said for sure, baby let me know if you wanna eat
She like Von you already know, just put your girl on fleek
I'm like cool, I can do that boo
What you want some shoes? Jimmy Choo
With a handbag too, red or baby blue?
She gets to smilin' she ain't used to this, 'cause she ain't use to shit

I'm just laughing could've been a pimp the way I move my lips
I be speeding could've been a driver the way I push the whip
You a hoe, coulda been a bitch, the way you throw a fit
But fuck that, right back to the script 'cause this a major lick
He got bricks, plus his neck is icy, and it match his wrist
Now it's like six, told her hit his phone, meet her in the Wic
But he ain't go, but he ain't that slow, say meet 'em at the store
I'm like cool, let 'em front his move, do what he gon' do

'Cause this the plot, put 'em in the pot, let it cook like stew
I grab my Glock, it been thru a lot, but it still shoot like new
We at the top, yeah, we lost a lot, but that just how it go
But check the score, if y'all lose one more, that's six to twenty-four
Let me focus, can't be zoning out, he pullin' up now
He double park, he ain't getting out, he in that push to start
That new Porsche is built like a horse, colors like the 'fo
He got a ring, I guess he ain't divorce, wife probably a whore

Now she walk up, she struttin' her stuff, this bitch thick as fuck
Got in the truck, kissed him on his lip, he cuffin' her butt
Now I sneak up crouching like a tiger, like Snoop off the wire
The block on fire, so I take precaution, mask on Michael Myer
I'm on his ass, he finna be mad, he gon' beat her ass
But this what happen, I got to the door, I thought I was cappin'
I was lacking 'cause there go the opps, yellin' out what's crackin'
I'm like what? I'm like nigga who? I was born to shoot

I got aim, I'm like Jonny Dang, when it comes to chains
So I rise, hit one in his arm, hit one in his thigh, this no lie
Bitches do or die, you said you gon' slide
You got some nerve, your shit on the curb, boy we put in work
From 64th, and from 65th, we not from 63rd

Bitch, we not from 63rd



Credits
Writer(s): Darrel Jackson, Dayvon Bennett, Paul Williams
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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