Withdrawls lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah, AK Bandamont n*gga, Uh

[Verse 1]
Soon as I make the dope lock, turn the heat on
Grandma died at a young age, she grew up watching buddy breathe coke
Assault rifles and automatic glizzys with the bleekholes
I had them jackboys jack you out yo sh*t you better think close
The day I jumped into this sh*t I couldn't think, no
I'm at the traphouse now with b*tches on me but they ain't hoes
I got a roll of dogsh*t on me and it can't fold, we almost took lil doggie out the game but we came close
And if you on the sh*t I'm on, we in the same boat
I was on that 95, dodgin the jakes on the state road
I just shot a n*gga up close, I gotta change clothes
I'm goin through withdrawls like where the pills and where the drank go
I already ran through 20 chops, I need a draco
I'm finna color wrap the Glock and paint it maple
I can spend 20 a week for 90 days, b*tch I'm stable
We took the cord off doggie life, and pulled the cable
I'm finna put her on the road, cuz she a angel
I done shot a n*gga from 20 blocks away, that's a crazy angle
I'll pull the nina out thats a baby banger, why the f*ck these n*ggas writing statements on the affidavit
I can have this b*tch do a hex on you, but she is not a Haitan
I'll prolly get paid for steppin on white, but I am not a racist
I'm on my way, out to the hills, so it's prolly gated
I'm finna buy 2 Hellcats, we'll prolly race em'
He can't go nowhere but his hood, so we caught him dangling
I can't be with girly poppin that hoe, she'll prolly mace him
If I get a clean pure batch, Ill prolly taste it
And hit it with some sh*t I had put up, now the pound ancient
You ain't got no hustle in you, that's embarrassing
b*tch I got cold blood runnin in my veins, this sh*t inherited
I think I got a route, lets hit Connecticut, cause I'm the type to see some sh*t from far than get ahead of it
Finna buy a pint of purp and I ain't sellin it
That b*tch lying to you like she ain't f*cked, but she ain't celibate
I'm finna learn about this bank, then I'm scammin it
Then take a n*gga b*tch to the traphouse, then i'm rammin it
But I'm still clutchin the pole, while I'm crammin it
I'm sick they sent doggie that way, and he tellin it
I was gon' give girly the di*k, but I'm smellin it
She put a pricetag on the cat, why you sellin it
I can't even hit the party, I think 12 in it
I was gon bring that package in, and sell in it
They was tryna keep me out the streets, but I fell in em
They cooked big bro back in the day, it was a failed mission
I made a killin sellin dog, hittin pale b*tches
Then I made wet sh*t on the floor, I couldn't stop hittin it
I just f*cked this b*tch for 12 hours straight, I couldn't stop hittin it
Hold on I'm finna turn my phone off, I think the cops listening