Set lyrics

TAG: ADB Play that sh*t

Hook: This game, n*gga. Throw up your set is you blood crippin. n*gga, what you up when you die, you cry. Did you go and step? Did you let off a hundred rounds and get her off the belt? So your brother died, huh? Oh, you been with throwed off. Oh, she been with trying to f*ck Pluto. Took all her clothes off. Girl, I heard you was a freak. They had said you for the streets. Heard you had bad daughter, n*gga. But they ain't got sh*t to do with me

Verse: n*gga, what the f*ck made you a gangster? I seen you pull a gun, but that don't mean you ever spent some time to run down on your whip before you crank up Liberal slid. Went and did a bid and got his rank up. Got in your pockets and take еverything you work for. I ain't even mad you trippin. But I need еverything you talk for. It ain't no love inside this sh*t. You just my work hard. Baby we can f*ck all night. That's what that perc for. I need to start taking these drugs that only make it worse. Real n*ggas take losses too. I know how it work. We ain't have no lights or water. I came out to dunk. He ain't got it like me, n*gga. But I came out the dirt. You know I lost my n*gga to this sh*t. Little brother huh? This sh*t ain't nothing. You know, we're used to this sh*t, huh?

Verse 2: When your time come, don't tell anyone. Just run it up. I done told you plenty times. You better keep your gun. I need more money. I need more funds. I want every dollar and I need every crumb. Let me get that bag right, little brother. We can't f*ck this up this time cause we ain't never had nothin. She not the one for you I told you not to cuff. You ain't really like that, n*gga. You a sucker. We got so close to killing you. But you got lucky. My young n*gga might end up killing you. You better not touch you. Keep your gun in your hand. No doubt for that clutchin. You got the bag? Then now you better rush me here to hold on to me. I popped a lot of candy when we were walking. Fendi put a little more walk up in it. Soon we get the drop. We spinning. Better keep your gun on you. n*ggas ain't bussin with you. So don't

Verse 3: Don't need toxic b*tches. Yeah. The gang got bosses to talk to and pay attention. You just shut your mouth and listen. You just let me know you wanna go. And I can keep my distance. There's some sh*t in the air. Better go get you a blicky. I ain't talk to Uncle Ricky