First Day Out (LLC Freestyle) lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Ayy, shout out to my brother Money Man on this b*tch
My 23 sh*t, though

[Chorus]
I'm a walkin' shooter, n*gga, should've been on Call of Duty
I can go and step all by myself, I ain't gotta call for shooters
b*tch gon' please me, go to work, slurp me like you swallow noodles
I get freaky off them Percs, might f*ck around, eat all the booty
Pull up like a diaper with this rifle, aim above the neck
Told my shooter if they want some static, I want nothin' but flesh
Countin' all this money, damn I need to give my thumb some rest
Thinkin' 'bout my b*tches like, "Which one gon' make me c*m the best?"

[Verse]
This sh*t here for real, I'm in that field just like a running back
Bless [?], guarantee she gon' be runnin' back (Come here)
She don't mind f*ckin' from the front, but love it from the back
When I catch my nut, yeah, I be stuck, baby, that's from the Act'
But f*ck a b*tch, I'm steady gettin' rich, I'm on some mob sh*t
Causin' hell, screamin', "f*ck 12," they can't stop sh*t
He play, he dead, I got one in the head outta this mopstick
Slidin' 'round like I left Chinatown with these chopsticks
I be doin' the sh*t these n*ggas always used to dream
f*ck school and f*ck the rules, in the hallways smokin' green
Feel like McGrady, f*ck who hatin', pull up ballin' on the scene
Balmains, f*ck what y'all think, this a thousand on my jeans, haha
b*tch, I be grindin' like the rent due
Won't survive when we slide, b*tch, you must think you 50 Cent too
Make them pus*y n*ggas move from out the South, that's what that stick do
Both of my b*tches fightin' up in my house, that's what good di*k do
Told 'em one day I'ma be the one, but they ain't wanna listen
Told 'em I got n*ggas step for fun, but he still wanna diss me
I know she done sucked a lot of di*k, so I don't want no kisses
It's a competition in my city, who gon' be first to get me
[Chorus]
I'm a walkin' shooter, n*gga, should've been on Call of Duty
I can go and step all by myself, I ain't gotta call for shooters
b*tch gon' please me, go to work, slurp me like you swallow noodles
I get freaky off them Percs, might f*ck around, eat all the booty
Pull up like a diaper with this rifle, aim above the neck
Told my shooter if they want some static, I want nothin' but flesh
Countin' all this money, damn I need to give my thumb some rest
Thinkin' 'bout my b*tches like, "Which one gon' make me c*m the best?"