Still In A Warzone E

What the fuck going We working, You know what saying? Big Icey gang, ten ten Thousand, hundred Let the band play. Still in the war zone. Wide body parked outside, gone 'cause the tour on. Nigga ran through three deals and I just started. Jira already got more on. Double R chains to put on. Little mini gang, know these rappers gotta get on. All the hard-looking nigga, what you on? I ain't cocky, usually the money bend long. Slide in paper, I ain't dodging potholes. Richest youngin in my city, big Carlo. Doing errands, I been shooting out the car though. Both of my wrist flood, next my hoe. Hit the lot, get straight coupe full of bros. But I know they understand I gotta get more. All these chains got me feeling like Django. Pull a Rolls Royce, nigga, no Range Rover. Big body make them get over, uh. Kill all the opps and we smoke 'em, yeah. Semis and switches, we tote 'em, yeah. Knock 'em all down, we bold 'em, yeah. I'm the little nigga, they know this now. Always laying back just holding out. We sitting around, we making routes. Fifty racks on ice so make them get out. I just be putting the opps in the ground. This rap shit easy, like doing now. I hit the gas, tell her hit a bitch Ground. Pull off the lot with zero miles. And I cash style, I ain't putting shit down. Don't pop out, lay in house, fuck you sound. Talk we shoot, make a nigga lose power. JG Wentworth, I need it now. Shit lit on my neck, I can't put it Out. Got ice on my neck and my wrist And my mouth. You see the bling but I'm Tucking the blouse. You know these niggas know how We get down. Niggas ain't shooting, they be saving They rounds. Bitches ain't shit, I just fuck on They mouth. You see a cup and I'm in The clouds. Smoking Opp pack, I ain't coming down. I'm too turnt, they like, "Calm down." I make the baddest bitches walk a mile. Light skin, tan, little shit got style. Give me cat and making me meow. Hit from the back and pull her weave out. I'll get it fixed, baby, don't pout. Really young and turnt, baby, no doubt. I ain't going in if I ain't got the Strap. Still in the war zone. Wide body parked outside, gone 'cause the tour on. Nigga ran through three deals and I just started. Jira already got more on. Double R chains to put on. Little mini gang, know these rappers gotta get on. All the hard-looking nigga, what you on? I ain't cocky, usually the money bend long. Slide in paper, I ain't dodging potholes. Richest youngin in my city, big Carlo. Doing errands, I been shooting out the car though. Both of my wrist flood, next my hoe. Hit the lot, get a straight coupe full of Bros. But I know they understand I gotta get More. All these chains got me feeling like Django. Pull a Rolls Royce, nigga, no Range Rover. Big body make them get over, uh. Kill all the opps and we smoke 'em, yeah. Semis and switches, we tote 'em, yeah. Knock 'em all down, we bold 'em, yeah. I'm the little nigga, they know this now. Always laying back just holding out. We ain't sitting around, we making routes. Fifty racks on ice so make them get out. Yeah, yeah, make them get out. Uh, they tried to take clout, yeah. Nigga know what I'm about, yeah. Nigga know what we're about, yeah. Wasn't going in, went scrap, yeah. She wanna fuck in house, yeah. She wanna fuck in the house, yeah. I hit her fuck in the car, yeah. Opp pack on, smoke za, yeah. Turn around, he ain't get far, yeah. Turn a nigga ass to a bar, yeah. Yeah, put a nigga ass in a bar, yeah. Now mom crying like, "Ha," yeah. Ha ha ha.