Abusive lyrics

[Intro]
(Rado)

[Verse: 24Lik, 392 Lil Head & RealRichIzzo]
Skinny died in his sleep, so I pop jiggas (Gotta stay up)
You would think the Glock a freak how it pop n*ggas (Boom, boom, boom, boom)
Your mans died last week, you was in the car with him (Hah)
Dame love takin' shots, well, we brought the bar with us (Damn)
Paid woulda made it far, now he with the stars, n*gga
You know when I pull up and shoot, you can't really guard n*ggas (Doo-doo-doo-doo)
b*tch tryna f*ck Lil Head, I got large digits
Got the machine off Izzo, now they cars missin'
We gone, we just took a n*gga Scat, now we all slidin' (Skrrt)
Forgot who they playin' with, they got Alzheimer's
All my hoes still thirty and up, you f*ck all minors (I like MILFs)
Key keep gettin' in bullsh*t, I gotta call Niyah
Don't need no real-estate agent, this Glock gon' put you in your place (Get it?)
It's four choppers in the whip, b*tch, we goin' on a chase
I'm gettin' tired, man, ain't nobody out on Brace
I like hoes that like b*tches, I don't want her if she straight
No, that wasn't me that f*cked you, did that sh*t when I was laced (Hah)
Should I rock out with the Glock or should I swing the baby Drac'?
My b*tch got a BBL, but she keep pole on her waist (Bah)
Like it's somethin' in his eye, I'll blow him in his face (Bah)
b*tch, I'm RealRich, y'all n*ggas broke as hell (Bum)
In sixth grade, he told on me, man, I know he 12 (You a rat)
You got signed to that label and put on a shelf (You weak as hell)
Izzo Glock keep fallin', bro, put on a belt (Man, put on a belt)
And I done broke my neck in Gucci, think I need some help (sh*t)
Went swimmin' in your b*tch coochie like I'm Michael Phelps (Her sh*t water)
You know the opps heaven-sent like they Keyshia Cole (Them n*ggas dead)
I got these Cubans mixed up, I got Key sh*t on
b*tch think we hittin Benis, eat pizza rolls (What the f*ck?)
She ain't from the Eastside, these Inkster hoes (These some Inkster hoes)
20 can probably punch a house if this piece still on (Bing)
I can't name you after bro, RIP Freaky, though (RIP bro)
They mans died last year, we shoulda been gone (In bed)
Instead, all these old-ass n*ggas makin' diss songs (Come get back, n*gga)
We ain't in school, how the f*ck y'all gettin' sent home?
We made his ass fly high like he Jim Jones (Ballin')
CashGang got a roster full of shooters (Doo, doo)
Got a room, I been hittin' her all day, I'm abusive
She a Oklahoma b*tch, wish I woulda hit her sooner (Get it?)
Put some titties on the chop, now this b*tch work at Hooters
I ain't have a baby yet, but these rap n*ggas my juniors (My son)
He be rattin' in the hood, call that n*gga Little Stuart (Rat-ass n*gga)
'Round here, we got dog sh*t, I ain't talkin' 'bout manure (I'm not lyin')
I heard the feds in the city, I done learned how to maneuver (Move swift)
At the barbecue, I put my chains in the cooler
Call my 30 Drakeo, it's the ruler
I'm downtown gettin' a lil' head on a scooter (From a freak)
She got on last year Uggs, I had to boot her
[Outro: 392 Lil Head]
I had to kick that b*tch out the f*ckin' pad
Don't come over if you ain't givin' ass