BRADY lyrics

by

Lazarus! (US)


[Part I]

[Intro]
Ayy, ayy

[Verse 1]
I'm big Lazy (Yeah), I go crazy (Chang)
I'm in the field, b*tch, just like Brady
I got a bunch of these hoes like Brady
Went up my dough, then I f*ck on yo' lady
And lil' shawty, she broke, so she cannot date me
And I shoot with the pole, step back like Tracy
My choppa gon' sing like Lil Tracy
I slide, the need for speed, b*tch I am racin' (Skrr)
And if it's he that want smoke, then we face him
He get rolled in a blunt, then my n*gga, we lacin'
I'ma f*ck on a sl*t and I leave that b*tch pacin' (Ay, oh wow)
She say it's too wavy and she can't replace it
And she textin' my phone, like "What you doin' lately?"
And I run to the cake, so lil' shawty gon' chase me
And these n*ggas be fake, then just flip 'em like flop
And you say that's yo' bih', but I know she a flop
And whenever I'm droppin', my sh*t is a bop
And I'm with a thotty, b*tch, (Yuh) she gave me top
And I got a new choppa, I got an AR
And that b*tch on my line 'cause I grind like a skate park
And I roll with the MAG, got a strap like a guitar
She all on my c*ck 'cause I rock like a guitar
And n*ggas, they sharin' my thoughts, but I do not get y'all
Throwin' them packs and this sh*t's [?] built like a grip ball
Like no, I can't roll with a pit, b*tch I roll with a big dog
I got the dough and I'm rich and these n*ggas, they p*ssed off
Like you start gassin' that b*tch, but that boy need a pit stop
Hop out and blastin' the stick, and I'm takin' his neck off
And I got yo' b*tch on my lip, she get hit, she get checked up
Like don't wanna argue and sh*t, but she just [?]
And I'm not finna talk in this sh*t, n*gga, go to a dental
And that n*gga's broke as a b*tch and I'm not finna tell y'all
Lil' ho wanna suck on my di*k and I told her "b*tch, no no"
[?] pulled up this sh*t, b*tch I feel like I'm [?]
And [?] pullin' these hits, and that n*gga won't get up
And I got a thotty, lil' b*tch, she gon' suck and she spit up
I pop out the Glock if you talk, then n*gga, get hit up (Oh wow)
Young n*gga trap, shoot the pack through the zip
di*k in my hip, b*tch I shoot like the Wiz
Gold on my wrist in this b*tch, and it's causin' a bliss
And I put this b*tch in my whip and I can't even remember her name
And these b*tches be frigid, got di' on my chain
And I get that b*tch dizzy, said it's off the chain
And you say that's yo' b*tch, but that b*tch for the gang
And I drive in the whip, and now I'm switchin' lanes
Big chop, put the stick to his face, uh (Fah)
[Part II]

[Verse 2]
I know you talkin' sh*t, lil' n*gga, I want you to pull up
I got yo' b*tch on my di*k, she gon' hop in this whip and go crazy as soon as I pull up
And we runnin' you down, b*tch I'm runnin' the town
I got thirty in my rounds, you get shot if you look up
And extended clip, you get hit if you twitch
If that n*gga want some, we get gas in this b*tch
And he said he got doja, we jackin' his sh*t
And I just beat the show, get out backin' and sh*t
If you talkin' bout dough, I got bags in the whip
And if he in the field, then we clippin' his sh*t (Ha-ha)
And if that n*gga cap, got a stick in the whip
I'ma run up my racks, I'ma stack up my chips
Take a shot with the gun, he gon' pop like some chips
And his thot gave me top 'cause she know who I is (Thotty)
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