Competition Domination lyrics

[Intro]
Squad
I ain't with all that sneak dissin' sh*t, man (At all)
My n*ggas in these streets for real (Woo)
Tookaville (Jojo)
Let's get it
BDK

[Chorus]
They claimin' we the competition (BDK)
But I'm screamin' "f*ck the opposition" (Squad)
I ain't really got no competition
I'm in these streets, I send shots at the opposition

[Verse]
Tookaville I rep this, sneak dissin', meet the exodus
Say "f*ck Tooka", you meet the clip
Yo mans die and you still ain't on sh*t
Respect, yeah, I earned this sh*t, disease gon' leave you burnin' quick
Burn n*ggas like I burn blank disc
King Lil Jay for president
n*ggas dissin' on me that's death row
But you know I keep the strap Velcro
No Taco Bell, but I feed you shells though
J Money got caught on Death Rhodes
You a singer or a rapper?
I'm a real n*gga, I'll clap you
Catch Lil Durk, put him in the dirt, feed the boy a clip 'cause I know he an actor
And, yeah, I got shot, but you know that ain't stop
Me from gettin' this guap
STL, EBT, yeah, we sendin' shots
Do a hit on 064, now the block hot
Free WeeWee, C-Ball, and 50 Shots
.223, it at make a n*gga Diddy bop
Team No Lackin, so you know I gotta keep a chop
Do a hit and it's drastic, stretch a n*gga out like elastic
Hit the guys, disappear like magic
Gettin' money, kill a opp with some passion
You a lame n*gga, you ain't wit' it
You paranoid, just admit it
Rest in peace to my competition
I'm takin' over my city
n*ggas mad 'cause they know it's my time
Black malice, so I can't get signed
Put money on my head, they tryin'
So hard, but I'm still on my grind
n*ggas said my name for no reason
My flow hard like cement
It's a cold world, n*gga, you anaemic
You GDK, but your daddy was a region
These for the n*ggas that don't know
I be throwin' bullets, Tony Romo
Pull up in a 4 dour with a 4-0
Make your body go up and down like a yoyo
Stevie Wonder to the game, I don't see
Any n*gga in the streets that's hot as me
Got a view now, so you gettin' money
I remember them days when you was bummy
Dirty n*gga, skinny pants, and a mowhawk
Semi-auto with a scope take your nose off
Sippin' Act' 'til a young n*gga dose off
All you n*ggas catchin' bullets like Randy Moss
Got my chopper in the car like Rick Ross
I'll crucify a n*gga, nail 'em to the cross
Don't see the competition, that's on the boss
Hollow tips make you jump like Kris Kross
These n*ggas got me f*cked up, why they wastin' my time?
Say they gon' kill me, they ain't in the streets
I swear to God, they lyin'
When I see you, you n*ggas dyin'
It's get rich or die tryin'
.30 shots all in my .9, shoot NumbaNine 'bout 9 times
[Chorus]
They claimin' we the competition (BDK)
But I'm screamin' "f*ck the opposition" (Squad)
I ain't really got no competition
I'm in these streets, I send shots at the opposition