97 Harris St lyrics

[Intro]
Humming

[Verse 1]
Pick up my phone, ten missed calls, b*tch, what the f*ck you want?
Don’t be rushing me on the stove, b*tch, I’m almost done
If this b*tch break I’ll use that blender like no other
Make it stick to the pan, can’t believe it ain’t butter
I got her hooked to this sh*t, she say she love the substance
Paranoid as a b*tch, prolly why I’m clutchin’
Ask cuz did he see that, prolly think I’m buggin’
n*gga I know what I saw, n*gga, I ain’t buggin’
Ain’t no one man above the crew, these n*ggas David Ruffin
Have a n*gga eating through a straw when I push the button
Brodie ain’t got no f*cking lawn service but he keep the cutter
n*ggas playin’ games while we eatin’, b*tch this ain’t Dave & Buster's
Hundred shots let off broad day, b*tch, if we miss you lucky
I know you be hidin’, f*ck around and we’ll just get your cousin
I said what the f*ck I said, b*tch, and you ain’t hear me stutter
I’ll put them real gunners on you for that bread and butter
RPs back to back, plus the Tris got me dozing off
All week long I’ve been in this fit, b*tch I’m going hard
Had to take a trip down to the vet, guess I ain’t know my dog
Shined a light on sh*t thats in the dark, it damn near broke my heart
Brodie jump off broad day with that Drac', that b*tch a work of art
You ain’t really religious, but you play I’ll send you close to god
You ain’t really got it and he do thats who you ‘sposed to rob
No matter what you do, you should never want to cross your dog
n*ggas got the game f*cked up, they ain’t got no morals
G’s got the knocks on him, I told him I’ll blow for you
I ain’t really with that bullsh*t, stay away from me
Ain’t no f*cking sign that say I’m a gangster, b*tch, don’t play with me
Ain’t talking ‘bout them racist crackers, b*tch, I got 3 K’s with me
Cuz don’t wanna rap, he say he cool with being a gravedigger
My mind f*cked up, my head hurt, I’m getting tired
They said they was in this sh*t 4L, I knew them n*ggas was lyin’
The broke can’t lead the broke, and the blind can’t lead the blind
Wish BK was still alive to hear him say it one more time
Clutch the knocks in the bed, I sleep with murder on my mind
Every time we go up on the score I’m sleeping kinda fine
Every time we went to war turned n*ggas blocks to Columbine
And Face could tell you every time "n*gga, stop me when I’m lyin’"
On god