Militia lyrics
by 22nd Jim
[Chorus: Prada Mack]
Hot like [?] militia
Good with that pistol
[?] that's nothing against him
[?] my n*ggas, I won't go against them
[?] the bomb squad, who won't go against them?
[Verse 1: Prada Mack]
Tell him bring his palm palms, while he on the bentch, n*gga
[?] she make a mess, n*gga
[?] so bad, she make you undress, n*gga
[?] to that bag, dirty money make me dance, n*gga
We gon' finish the same way we started, hundred percent
She gave me head in the car, and that was without the tints
Can't come home without the rent, [?] straight to the money
Oh no I can't forget, [?] broke b*tch acting funny
[?] hit the road, switch them [?] numbers on the [?]
I'm a fool with that bag, [?] Prada, he a wizard
I'm Harry Potter how I play with broomsticks, like it's Quititch
[?] the b*tch, if she ever try [?] off my [?]
And b*tch I'm blued up with all these blue hundres [?] 1's
[?] for the low low, I got coupons
I can't move none, they can't prove none
They confuse [?], [?]
I'm like the good son, I can't do wrong
[Chorus: Prada Mack]
Hot like [?] militia
Good with that pistol
[?] that's nothing against him
[?] my n*ggas, I won't go against them
[?] the bomb squad, who won't go against them?
[Verse 2: 22nd Jim]
[?] militia, I play with them pistols
Free T-Ran up out the jam, we got bullets like missiles
You a lucky man, if I shoot and don't hit you
It ain't hard to see them n*ggas, 'cause they softer than tissue
Running up on Jimmy, and I'll give you an issue
Slipped in 2015, [?] it was simple
Police in my face, told them it's confidential
I'ma keep it in the streets, not behind, in the middle
Long as I'm in the field, I play my position
Balling on these n*ggas, like I'm Scotty Pippin
I'm Diored down to the floor, nickname me Scotty Drippin
When that AR in my presents, I put down them pistols
556's in the kitchen, residue on the dishes
Upper class n*gga, b*tch, but I came from the trentches
Running laps on you n*ggas, same sh*t with the scrimmage
All I gotta do is point, and tell them "go get it"
[Chorus: Prada Mack]
Hot like [?] militia
Good with that pistol
[?] that's nothing against him
[?] my n*ggas, I won't go against them
[?] the bomb squad, who won't go against them?