LAMB TRUCKS lyrics

[Intro]
Doe Beezy
Doe Beezy (oh sh*t)
f*ckin' burnt, just go crazy then
Run Forrest, run Forrest, run, yeah (let's go, hold on, yeah, yeah)

[Verse 1]
Went from mini vans, now it's Lamb' trucks (skrrt)
A pistol makes a pus*y put his hands up (boom, boom, boom)
We drop bodies and run bands up, the opps can't stand us
I left to the bank so much might need to go do stand up
Hahaha, these n*gga's comedy, they say they robbin' me
Rich as f*ck still go to the hood and post up where the drama be
And when I leave the hood, I pull up where your baby mama be
Come here, baby (come here, baby) (muah)
Let's go (come hеre, baby)
Put that sh*t on, spent five racks just on fashion
Broski twеak out in the club, he spent like twenty racks on dances
Diamonds dancin' they look so romantic, look how they be flashin'
f*ck your diss I ain't with that rappin'
I'll up this blick and make you choke like you be rabid (oh, really)
Uh, million dollars later, b*tch, I'm havin'
Play with me you open them doors, b*tch, this blick gon' close your casket
I ain't with that lackin' Big Doe Beezy need that ratchet
They don't want no beef, these n*ggas sweet like Easter baskets
Opps ain't puttin' no points up on the board, they need a basket
Hit the club, section full of shooters and some bad sh*t (come here, baby)
Make him run that light, I'll catch his pus*y ass in traffic
(Put your b*tch ass up, you still gonna die when we catch you) oh, really
[Chorus]
When you get caught you know what's goin' on (what's goin' on)
Finna load the gang with switches, b*tch, you know it's home (b*tch, you know it's home)
I rock Gucci head to toe, b*tch, I put it on (Gucci)
These n*ggas from the city is hoes, I be puttin' on (oh, really)
Kick your door then I run up on ya, bust your dome
I get in it, Mr. Vlone with the chrome
Ask about Doe Beezy, b*tch, that n*gga cold
Yeah (oh, really)

[Verse 2]
It's so cold, icy, icy, it's so pricy
Walk down Euclid Ave, just look left, don't look on Knowles, b*tch, that's not the right street
Walk in a opps party like five deep
You can't fight me, pus*y, fight this pipe, bleed (boom, boom, boom, boom)
Eight hundred on Dior, but this b*tch just a white tee
These n*ggas scared of me, that's why they don't like me
I just wanted the homie, they pulled up, hit like three
You ain't shot nobody, b*tch, you ain't nothin' like me
I apologize if I ever robbed or shot at you (sike)
Alright, I'm lyin', f*ck you and him too (oh, really)
f*ck I look like boxin' you, my young n*ggas'll box you
Chanel bag on your head, b*tch, I copped you (come here, baby)
Like my hoes, n*gga

[Chorus]
When you get caught you know what's goin' on (what's goin' on)
Finna load the gang with switches, b*tch, you know it's home (b*tch, you know it's home)
I rock Gucci head to toe, b*tch, I put it on (Gucci)
These n*ggas from the city is hoes, I be puttin' on (oh, really)
Kick your door then I run up on ya, bust your dome
I get in it, Mr. Vlone with the chrome
Ask about Doe Beezy, b*tch, that n*gga cold
Uh, yeah (oh, really)
[Outro:]
Run Forrest, run Forrest, run
Run Forrest, run Forrest, run (yeah)
Run Forrest, run Forrest, run