Tactical lyrics

[Intro]
Grrah, grrah, grrah (Haha)
Yeah, Fross
(Great John on the beat, by the way)
b*tch, I'm back

[Chorus]
Like a white boy, gotta keep a tan (Woo)
Lot of pussies plottin' on revenge
Body dripped out, clothes came from France (France)
With these hundreds stickin' out my pants (What?)
For them figures, brodie make a n*gga prance (Bah)
Just to make you n*ggas understand
I am not the one, never was then (Brr)
I'll punch a n*gga out his pants

[Verse]
Now I'm on my bully, I don't give a f*ck
Brodie got the chop, we don't knuckle up
n*ggas actin' funny talkin' to they mans
Backin' out the chop', n*gga, like what's up?
f*ck you talkin' 'bout? I've been on my sh*t
Got a hundred Bloods, got a hundred Crips
Wе be comin' deep, we'll make it lit
Squad full of dogs, oh, wе with the sh*ts
'Cause I'm on a different type of timin' (Timin'), look
In a different type of mood (Mood)
See, I'm movin' dusty, think I'm Locane, the way a n*gga stackin' all these blues
f*cked a bad b*tch in a Wraith truck, shorty said she wanna see the moon
If she got the creamy pus*y when I f*ck, gotta scoop her up like a spoon
Keisha wanna f*ck me, ha (What?)
And Tina say she love me, ha (That boy)
And Lisa wanna come and cuddle, bye (Oh, what?)
'Cause Nina tryna come and rumble, why? (Uh-huh)
Better move subtle (What?)
I'll have my 'ooters come and make it live
n*ggas tryna rumble
You'll meet them n*ggas that's above you, ha
Like Fross back now, makin' big moves
Clothes dripped out and I got big jewels (Big drip)
Been gettin' bread 'cause I've been Jew
I keep lead in my bag like a pencil
No fake around here, been official
Big hollows in the mag', little missiles (Big gun)
Got a problem? Speak your mind, what's the issue?
Say the wrong words, sendin' bullets through your tissues
I don't smoke crack, I sell it
Your Co-D home, he tellin'
I smoke that gas, I inhale it
Smell it, weed came straight from Heaven
Ayy, and it's still free felons
We smoke that gas, not stressin'
I went to PR and I f*cked a b*tch and she showed me Spanish
[Chorus]
Like a white boy, gotta keep a tan
Lot of pussies plottin' on revenge
Body dripped out, clothes came from France
With these hundreds stickin' out my pants
For them figures, brodie make a n*gga prance
Just to make you n*ggas understand
I am not the one, never was then
I'll punch a n*gga out his pants