BloodKlot lyrics

Six7 on the beat

You ain’t shot nobody stop
Oh you got a Glock pop
Catch a n*gga at the red light shoot em when be stop
Got a whole nother yop waiting for me at the dock
And my circle small – dot
All these n*ggas BloodKlot
Guess what we got? the drop
Got a light and a Glock on my belt like a cop
I'ma gon f*ck around and do the run OJ
Oh she wanna f*ck with me ? ok
And I jus hit g no Jay
And I jus left Johnny dang snow flake
I’m in the H pouring drank wit my brothers
At the airline poured up chopper don’t stutter
I let that chopper go grrr grrr let it touch ya
Say it make everything taste better like butter
In the AR lab had too go thru the puzzles
Hell yea I can jug do you think I can juggle
Sent the whip too the gym that b*tch came out with muscles
Gotta bad b*tch and her hair long like Rapunzel / got a hood b*tch she tryna f*ck me for bundles
Matt black G wagon sitting high like a hummer
Finna pour me a 8 then drink out a funnel
And you know that I always gotta fall not stumble
Rannn up that sack
Damn near jus broke my back
Purple and the red make it taste like act
n*gga shut the f*ck up why you talking like that
Sip drink but I know this sh*t kill like crack / n*gga live then you know when we gotta spin right back
I’m wit Jill and we went up the hill like jack
n*gga play then I gotta bring kill bill back
I jus boarded the pint wit a chopper
I’m so high I jus walked past a helicopter
No the Glock don’t make good music
But this MF hear have yo head bobbin
n*gga thought he was gon Rob me all you heard was pfftt pfftt then that led dropping
n*gga reach for my chain I'ma pop him have too cut off my dreads prolly
n*gga drop the location skrrrrr pull up and we headshot em
I jus look at my phone RING that’s my bro from the feds calling
One day I'ma be a rich ass grandfather
You ain’t even do sh*t he was dissing yo dead partner
Yo hoe hit me up I’m knocking her legs off her
Wouldn’t sell you this goop if you gimme yo best offer
Tell the plug don’t trust me b*tch I got pints on the mega bus
Hop out stand over he ain’t getting up
Get em off my body I jus sold him fake edibles
And you know we got the medals for them n*ggas tryna medal us
In the I hit em wit a pedigree that’s me
Michael Jordan wit a 223
Big ocean he a crip big C
In the H finna call J Zay no beef im tryna pull up on B