Mr. Woody

My mama said I got death on me (My eyes stressed some)
The reason I got this vest on me (Ay, nigga left on me)
Helluva made this beat baby

Bitch (Bitch)
Ayy free Lil easy, Bitch
(Back to the street shit)
And free [?] (Back to the street shit)
I ain't [?] in the city (Bitch, bitch)
Fuck with me (Bitch, bitch, back to the street shit)
Back to the street shit
Bitch, bitch, Back to the street shit (4 gang in this)
I ain't [?] in the city

I ain't into talking, la-la-la
Ain't been the same since I got shot (Duh)
My leg hurt, but ay, he got dropped
We got [?]
Free my pops, fuck my opps

Nah for real (Bitch!)
You gon make more than the news, if you touch my watch
Yelling free my nigga Nells ([?])
You ain't never take a life, I can tell
[?] playing murder in that cell, kinda shook ya
Give me dub, I'll cook it (Pussy!)

Hunnit thousand on me all [?]
Seven murders in, all [?]
Quick to top something just for looking
Quick to drop something, I'm a bully
Handgun chop, its a fully

Old school chop, Mr. Woody (Mr.
Woody nigga, y'all niggas know how we coming)
Bitch don't come around [?] nobody (Bitch)
Any nigga round me [?]

[?] on the wood cause he dropped me
fucking getting mad, cause he had
Four chops deep when we ride
Big fours, bitch you can't [?]

Hustle boys, yeah I got it [?]
Push yo shit back cause he ready
Back to the street shit
I was gone, now I'm back on the east bitch
I ain't [?] in the city



Credits
Writer(s): Martin Mccurtis, Dion Marquise Hayes
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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