Talkin sh*t lyrics

[Verse 1: FMB DZ]
I can see you pus*y n*ggas through ya'll smartphones
Sneak dissin on that Twitter, now that boy gone
b*tch huh, I just broke the bank, Wells fargo
23 for that turn around
30 n*gga if I sit it down
[?] [?]
They got me on my bullsh*t, I gotta chill out
n*gga f*ck a drive by, we gon get out
Pressure bust pipes, we gon see what you really bout
We the ones got that work in the vacant house
Choppa with the drum clip look like Mickey Mouse
You the type of n*gga who like shoot up houses
My dawg come broad day, n*gga with no problems
[?] big Glock 40 n*gga, with no chopper
Big Glock 40 with no chopper

[Verse 2: BandGang Lonnie Bands]
Joseph hit me up, he said he need a classic
Pocket full of blues, we don't f*ck with plastic
A n*gga cross that line, them choppers coming
My n*ggas really on slide, [?] droppin something
BandGang, fast money boys
I just made a play on livernois
Road runners, keep them things around
I'm fresh off the road, b*tch [?]
I got ski's with me, AR 15 with me
Just know that b*tch [?] with me
Last year I swore blew a clean 50
Currently I'm [?] with me
All the junkies love me, all this money on me
Walking out Luie V like I got [?] on me
[?] spent my whole year touring
b*tch think I'm on something, I ain't got sh*t for her
[Verse 3: AllStar JR]
Get a bag boys b*tch, young king talking
Used to fiend
Yeah they down nervous, cause I got a lotta bands
Come back with them sleves, and meet your b*tch up at Bahama breeze
[?] downtown, just to add it up
f*ck you poor ass n*ggas, and them plastic buffs
[?] gloves like boxing, bag heavy as [?]
n*ggas glorifying broke and know the grocery store hiring
Counting old bands, keeping up with day to day
Tryna drive a whip, you gotta unlock on the racing game
I ain't showing off, it's in my and, can't fit [?]
I been the boss, you been the crumb, I took a minute off
Having work issues, we can be the answer
We ain't doing playing, watching, n*ggas up their standards
You ever made all the decisions on the whole thing
You stealing crumbs boy, you worser than the dope feends

[Verse 4: Molly Brazy]
It's Molly Brazy, Brazy baby got me feeling like I'm 80's
Living like a boss, that's why all these rapping b*tches hate me
I'm the greatest, you the lamest
Keep on dissing, cause you nameless
Don't know names, but I know faces
White diamonds like I'm racist
Only traces I be cases, yeah you seen me on the news
Shut up b*tch, watch your mouth before you be on that b*tch too
Yeah I'm trippin in the Coupe
And your n*gga like me too
How you wanna hate me boo?
Look at me, then look at you
b*tch