2100 lyrics
by EBK Jaaybo
[Intro]
I'm leaning and hella sh*t in this motherf*cker
Ayy, where the juice at, n*gga?
Ayy, switch that beat, that weak ass sh*t, f*ck is that? Turn that sh*t off, n*gga
Stop playing, n*gga
Oh, there he go (Get up in that, boy)
Ayy, get up on that though
(Ayy, ayy, check this out, check this out)
(My n*gga gio on this beat, bro)
[Verse]
Murder after murder, blood, you know what it is
f*ck the babies, when it comes down to it, they get hit
Smoke the kid, every n*gga 'round here got a stick
Ain't have time to buy a cup, boy, I'm sipping out the brick
Chicken strips, baby, you gon' strip or you gon' hoe
Never fold, Southeast, I'm so 21-Double-0
Can't brеak the code, plenty of n*ggas did whеn they told
Just don't choke on the drill, bust the fully 'til its gone
Oh no, me no give you di*k if you broke
Sent her home, slapped the b*tch for taking pictures in my phone
Like what you on? f*cking up what I got going on
I would risk it but you ain't got no cheese and you a hoe
So he told, feds been tapping the brodie phone
He been tryna smoke a opp, I love the hype that brodie on
Ayy, get him gone, smoke a opp then put it in a song
K's up, Kasino world, free my thugs out the hole
Level IV, had to keep a hundred, free my Crip
Southside, you ain't slide, that's a lie he say he did, he telling myths
b*tch, go get a bag, you ain't exempt
f*ck it up, ain't got a job, pus*y pops [?] toot it up
I know you like the way I beat it up, baby
Slow it down, shake that sh*t, speed it up, lady
You said you wanna f*ck with a thug, pay me
Don't want my seed if you don't wanna have a thug baby
Do a hundred, smoke something, y'all make a lot of songs
Faceshot, we face opps, blood partners gone
Pop a pill, pop a n*gga, now my problems gone
Slid through a n*gga residence, now he ain't got a home
Cop a pole, shake something with that sh*t, n*gga
Walk a n*gga down, don't disappoint me on this skit, n*gga
Rip his chest open, leave his guts in his whip, n*gga
Was a stepper, got stepped on and he snitched, n*gga
Flip n*ggas, touch no nerd, clear the top hat
Fresh out, hit Slo-Be like, "Where them Glocks at?"
My gutter boys apply pressure, where the chops at?
You hard body, so is F&N
Satan just knocked at the door, Tootie, let him in
Brains on my white Air Forces, that's a messy skit
Put lil' brodie on the team, I hope he represent
On 21, I'll never switch, n*gga