London Lipton lyrics

[Intro]
With who? The girl next door, ya know?
Sippin' on Lipton
I'm sippin' on Lipton
I had to f*ck wit' yo' b*tch put a six in
Make a new brain I'm missin'
Graah-graah

[Verse 1]
Shoot with da' chopper, it's stupid official
That ho efficient, breaking through brittle
Turn dat lil' n*gga into a McGriddle
n*gga you sweet eat these bullets like Skittles
I got a Blick and it do more than tickle
Think I won't up dis mof*cka you wishful
I might hit brodie and pull up with bigs
You don't wanna get hit then don't get in the middle
Pick up the Tommy put you in a pickle
.45 cal make a n*gga feel little
Watch out b*tch that's my di*k not a pistol
Ice cubes all in this sh*t looks like crystals
Boy you can't get enough of these K' Rounds
We gon' slide on your ass like a playground
Uptown pushing that dog sh*t way down
We beat a rap n*gga ass like it's 8 Mile
If you ain't hit then yo' ass better lay down, play dead
I'm off the drugs like a bass head
Dis n*gga tripped and he leaving with one leg
50 round mags stacked up like a bunk bed
n*ggas want clapped so I just leave 'em on read
Smoke too much loud, don't wanna hear what a bum said
I keep an automatic in the trunk bed
Young skinny n*gga on me, but I pump led
[Bridge]
I'm sippin' on Lipton
f*ck wit' yo' b*tch throw a six in
One up top, that's on my stick man

[Chorus]
I had a deuce in that b*tch put a six in
Finna transform on these n*ggas like Ben 10
You need a tip, come with your glick then
He catch a tip if I'm tipping off Lipton

[Verse 2]
He think he hard he gon' leave with a FatHead
Shotty my hip make me walk like the undead
Look p*ssed, bro then I'ma find you off footprints
Boy, you a ham, no you ain't finna cook sh*t
I'm in a gang lil' n*gga like good rich
Might f*ck around snatch yo' chain just like hood rich
How he a match my sh*t bang like a porn flick
You have to go get some sh*t I was born with
Try me the consequence gon' be enormous
I pull up on your sh*t like a Mormon
I'm tryna cook me a n*gga like Foreman
Pull up with .44s shooting that Foreman
Spinnin' your block, Wheel of Fortune
Totin' that Glock, I feel important
You could get hit up my n*gga I'm scorchin'
Whippin' this sh*t up they might call me Gordon
[Chorus]
I had a deuce in that b*tch put a six in
Finna transform on these n*ggas like Ben 10
You need a tip, come with your glick then
He catch a tip if I'm tipping off Lipton