Jo Swisher lyrics

Tse E2-
f*ck hoes freak my ft and go and make chicken
And i’ll up switch and put this b*tch on you like n*gga stop trippin
This a 2 3 call it the jordan gun it’s filled wit scott pippen
Up a double jab and hit him in his face like sugar ray lenord
(n*gga)
Ain’t goin broke cause im a paid n*gga
Told them broke n*ggas go get they muscle up cause i’m a weight lifter
Wit my n*gga ronald davis in the cut he trynna paint n*ggas
Told my fire head to meet me on the ave i’m at the lane wit it

10ta lil a-
(Ok)
Hoped out fresh as hell you see my chains hittin
Thuggin in the hood it ain’t safe where you can’t kick it
Stop the car we hoppin out on feet we finna chasе n*ggas
Never heard about you in thе city you a lame n*gga
I’ll never chase a hoe cause i don’t chase liquor
Swing the cat and did a burn out and hit the back fender
Freak b*tch done walked into the dog and did a back bender
You can’t even ride wit me if you don’t clap n*ggas
100 bands ya i really made it off a jack n*gga
50 bands i can probably make that in the trap wit ya
Spin around and then i step back and send a whole missile
Seen a opp i done pressed down it was no issue
Ice on im in here cold like a whole igloo
Why you blowin up that b*tch phone man she don’t miss you
Tse E2-
(n*gga)
Back up before the pole hit you
Up blick and watch me aim across the street i got scope wit me
Thot b*tch i had to pass her to the oops cause she like broke n*ggas
And my white boy he’ll choke you by the neck he gotta rope wit em
Watch me euro step and do a spin around and pull out no dribble
No cap i had a petty ass zip and made a bowl wit it
(n*gga)
Smoke dead oops right out the jo swisher
Take your main b*tch and f*cked her face
And you a toe licker
Real aggressive wit it beat her dunies down im off of no liquor
Threw a right hook and threw a double jab this b*tch a pole hitter
f*ck a smack down i’ll beat n*ggas ass i’m off the ropes wit it

10ta lil a-
(alright)
The way my n*gga swing the cat
He like a pro spinin
Up pole and walk a n*gga down and shoot from close distance (ok)
I heard your older homie told he got a long sentence
When we see the boys we hit the allys and we jump fences
Last n*gga walked up on the gang now his face missing
In the club beatin on the oops in this b*tch trippin
Cartier the big face yeah it’s a big difference
Look down and you might hurt your eyes cause this b*tch hittin