Hoppin' out the V's and you know brodie bang that yop
Two switches in the V, Brodie got a G-Lock with a mop
We got his lo lo from a hoe, so you know that we gon' knock his top
Face shot, face shot, whoever posted on that block
Niggas hidin' every day, so I'm about to get his brother shot
Free Sos up out that cell, you know the time short on the clock
Free the bros about the system, tell me, stop dissing on opps
When we hidin' in your bushes, know we lurkin' on your block
First of all, Free Slimeball, Free Sos, and Free Chop
Posted on the G every day, I'm tryna tote my Glock
Aimin' for the chest, I f*ck around and pop his f*ckin' top
This ain't no diss, it's just a message, man, f*ck the opps
Dissin' in them songs, pussy boy, gon' get his brother whacked
Drop like 20, score a bucket, then I head back to the rest
You say you tough, I'll call you bluff, lil' nigga, failed the test
The opps steady callin' phones, till' we pop up with the Techs
He died on the scene, three bullets to his head, one to his chest
These bullets sum like bedbugs, start reachin' for your neck
And pussy niggas don't call my phone if you ain't talkin' bout a check
All the opps and bitches, all them pussy niggas duckin' reck
We poppin' out them cuts, pussy nigga lookin' right, we comin' left
Got stripes, I'm like a ref, so you know I'm strapped up with a tech
Got hollows in this clip, lil' nigga can't run from death
We spin they block and leave a mess, ARP it rip the flesh
Problemzz - LAW & ORDER Lyrics
Problemzz - LAW & ORDER Lyrics
Official
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
English
Hoppin' out the V's and you know brodie bang that yop
Two switches in the V, Brodie got a G-Lock with a mop
We got his lo lo from a hoe, so you know that we gon' knock his top
Face shot, face shot, whoever posted on that block
Niggas hidin' every day, so I'm about to get his brother shot
Free Sos up out that cell, you know the time short on the clock
Free the bros about the system, tell me, stop dissing on opps
When we hidin' in your bushes, know we lurkin' on your block
First of all, Free Slimeball, Free Sos, and Free Chop
Posted on the G every day, I'm tryna tote my Glock
Aimin' for the chest, I f*ck around and pop his f*ckin' top
This ain't no diss, it's just a message, man, f*ck the opps
Dissin' in them songs, pussy boy, gon' get his brother whacked
Drop like 20, score a bucket, then I head back to the rest
You say you tough, I'll call you bluff, lil' nigga, failed the test
The opps steady callin' phones, till' we pop up with the Techs
He died on the scene, three bullets to his head, one to his chest
These bullets sum like bedbugs, start reachin' for your neck
And pussy niggas don't call my phone if you ain't talkin' bout a check
All the opps and bitches, all them pussy niggas duckin' reck
We poppin' out them cuts, pussy nigga lookin' right, we comin' left
Got stripes, I'm like a ref, so you know I'm strapped up with a tech
Got hollows in this clip, lil' nigga can't run from death
We spin they block and leave a mess, ARP it rip the flesh
Two switches in the V, Brodie got a G-Lock with a mop
We got his lo lo from a hoe, so you know that we gon' knock his top
Face shot, face shot, whoever posted on that block
Niggas hidin' every day, so I'm about to get his brother shot
Free Sos up out that cell, you know the time short on the clock
Free the bros about the system, tell me, stop dissing on opps
When we hidin' in your bushes, know we lurkin' on your block
First of all, Free Slimeball, Free Sos, and Free Chop
Posted on the G every day, I'm tryna tote my Glock
Aimin' for the chest, I f*ck around and pop his f*ckin' top
This ain't no diss, it's just a message, man, f*ck the opps
Dissin' in them songs, pussy boy, gon' get his brother whacked
Drop like 20, score a bucket, then I head back to the rest
You say you tough, I'll call you bluff, lil' nigga, failed the test
The opps steady callin' phones, till' we pop up with the Techs
He died on the scene, three bullets to his head, one to his chest
These bullets sum like bedbugs, start reachin' for your neck
And pussy niggas don't call my phone if you ain't talkin' bout a check
All the opps and bitches, all them pussy niggas duckin' reck
We poppin' out them cuts, pussy nigga lookin' right, we comin' left
Got stripes, I'm like a ref, so you know I'm strapped up with a tech
Got hollows in this clip, lil' nigga can't run from death
We spin they block and leave a mess, ARP it rip the flesh
Writer: Marquan Hinton
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid