Flame Em, Pt. 2 lyrics

[Intro: JO Bandz]
Glo made that beat?
Swear to God
Gang
Grrah
DOA, DOA
Gang
Bands, bands, bands
Grrah
Grrah
Gang, gang, gang
Gang, gang, gang

[Verse 1: JO Bandz]
First thing first, they can suck my di*k
And it's still Cane up in the spliff
Mentioning my dead, that's how you get hit
f*ck that sh*t n*gga, we gon' switch up the whip
How y'all spinnin' the Sev? Y'all ain't never did sh*t
How y'all talking that sh*t? Y'all never did sh*t, like
Go and pick up a gun, like
Mentioning JB, that's a ticket to death
Smoking Lotti, dummy, don't be next
n*ggas really soft, y'all really AquaFresh
Spinning through the Sev, watch hollows hit ya neck
n*ggas ain't a score, that we ain't upset
Just ask the opps, they treat us with respect
DOA the motto, please don't forget
Call up lil' Gotti, aiming for your chеst
Who the f*ck is Keem? He ain't on sh*t
Made tеn tracks, n*gga never bent
Lookin' for me, n*gga on the bench
Sugarhill what? Y'all n*ggas really kids
Shot in ya' head, stil ain't never spin
Still free Nazzy Loc out the pen
Solid as a rock, punching n*ggas brims
We the real flock, Glocks that extend
Boy we don't run, boy we don't trip
That n*gga cap, was runnin' fast, Rick
I was fourteen, catching real cases
Lil Notti with me, moving real anxious
Trigger finger itchin', n*gga, we ain't brainless
p*ssing me off, now I'm upset
Ballin' like Diddy, n*gga, I'm a vet
Still live long JB on the set
Sev block, DOA, we up next
Jay Billz slidin' up with the TEC
Don't spin in no V's and get flipped
We the real opp, putting in pain
Shot by a dyke, n*gga, you a lame
Begging me for cash, n*gga, it's a shame
DOA the gang, n*gga, know my name
Chillin' with the opps, you gonna get flamed
[Verse 2: Set Da Trend]
You got shot by a dyke, n*gga you a lame
Mali that's my brother, for him, I'ma flame
I ain't with the dissin', I just leave you missin'
Get wrapped like a gift, n*gga, this ain't Christmas
When I'm off the Xannies, I be feeling different
Me and Kay on the hit, b*tch, we ain't missing
Me and JO back to back, we like Mike and Pippen
So long, clutch, JO look back, he still clicking
Clip ain't see through, but it's a thirty
Bro start buggin', shootin like he Curry
See the opps, I bet he show no mercy
Woo got poked, they got up in his jersey

[Verse 3: Kay Flock]
Say we smoke all deads, we want all rec', we gon' die with that sh*t, like, what?
On the bike, I throw all pegs, walk on both legs when I'm firin' sh*t, like
ECG n*ggas know what I do
They know what time it is when I bend through, like
I done boomed at his old heads, that's a code red
Sha Gz, I'm looking for you
Stop ducking when I'm bending through
Shoot broad day, that's nothing new
Spinnin' through early, you got no excuse
n*gga be cappin' on rap, what he do?