​​​​​​contraband lyrics

[Intro: arpsweatpants]
Ayy-yo, CC
Yeah, go-go
Huh, huh, arp, yeah
Woah, woah, yeah, go
Huh, yeah-yeah, arp, the biggest

[Chorus: arpsweatpants]
Oh, you not tryna die, huh? (Oh)
Walk wit' that pole if he tryna some’ (Grrah)
They think I'm lackin', but I got my eyes on ’em
I know he cappin', he don't got that fire on him
Woah, shoutout my plug, he move hell of bricks (Let's go)
I got a lesbian plug, she legit (Yeah)
Got through TSA with the stick (Grrah)
Contraband in my briefcase, it's a brick (Yeah)

[Verse 1: arpsweatpants & yvgnahh]
Got banned from my city, pus*y, you a b*tch (b*tch)
You're banned from my car, I ain't playin' yo’ sh*t (I’m not)
I'm tryna rob, and I’m takin' your stick
Got a baseball, bluff, and let off a pitch
Like I'm bird watching, finna let out the pigeons (Yeah)
I feel like GR8TAH!, boy, why is you b*tchin'? (Why?)
Sit in silence, but they really be temptin’
She be screamin', but I just put the tip in (Yeah)
Like Certified, catch an all-night flight
I stay strapped, but I still keep a knife (I do)
They pull me over, and I might get life (Yeah)
I got AR Pistol, and it's choppin' his height (Grrah)
Bad [?], but she not my type
She an athlete, she ride like a bike (She do)
Feel like 'DAMI, I'ma do some' slight (Yeah)
One wrong move, and I'm ending your life
[Verse 2: 870glizzy]
Feel like I'm Cudi, I post in block all day and night (Ayy, ayy)
I caught an opp', then I finna get right (What)
Send him downtown if I catch an opp' at the light (b*tch)
Brodie came through tryna fight, how the f*ck you are, Mike Tyson? (Who, ha)
Let his ass throw in the fist, I'ma throw up the pipe
He runnin', the f*cker finna fight for his life
What you gon' do when this sh*t hit the fan? (Hittin' the fan)
What you gon' do when this sh*t hit—
And I kick in the door when my bro's servin' grams
Back to that regular, hustler program
What you gon' do when this sh*t hit the fan? (What you gon' do?)
What you gon' do when this sh*t hit—
And I kick in the door when my bro's servin' grams (Grams)
Back to that regular, hustler program (Alright)
b*tch, where I'm from, everybody on drugs
We be slingin' dope when you own it, n*gga, it's either of the above (Either one)
I had to [?]
Come home with junkies on my mommas' couch (Damn)
b*tch, I remember this sh*t like it was yesterday, right when my bro' [?] (Yeah)
Give me a contraband, who am I judge a man? (Who am I?)
Brodie, go and get yo' bands, n*gga, do what it takes, I understand, n*gga
I was robbin' free bands, n*gga
My brodie serving out the Xans', n*gga, type of Xans to kill—, n*gga
We was runnin' through the streets, they'll never own me
[Verse 3: yvgnahh]
Ayy, what
b*tch, I got me that strap, hit him wit' that piece
He wanna track, take him to the meet
Hit that b*tch in his face, make that n*gga leak
Said he got guns, lyin' through his teeth
I see that pus*y, why you tryna creep?
He actin' tough talking through a screen
See that b*tch in the whip, shoot him in my seat
I'm finna crack sh*t, hit a lick
My n*ggas in the field, in the mix
Got me that [?] with the [?]
He talking stupid, got a lisp
Said he gon' slide, no, that n*gga won't
[?]
That n*gga [?], put him in a roach
I kill that n*gga, then I kill his folks