Hey Switch lyrics

[Verse]
I keep burnin' my jeans noddin' off of Tris'
I really get close and nah, I ain't gon' miss with the switch
I keep that b*tch in my pant, you gon' die with your dog in your dip
Take a trip 'bout the A, we got sh*t on lock
I get out on two, I ain't prayin', I know I ain't missin' no shots
Bad b*tch in the way, get the f*ck, all we need is some drops (Frrt, frrt)
Hey Switch, back to back I've been sippin' on Tris'
I'm a rapper but I still kill sh*t (I crack you)
I don't need no jugg to hop in that car to and go bend
G17 with a button on the left side of that b*tch
When I crack JodyBoof the beef gon' end
Tryna to send his ass up with his brother and his dead-ass men (Frrt, frrt)
Free No3ree, we had n*ggas pushin' each other (Hey Switch)
I'm an all star player in the streets (Bo Jackson, n*gga)
I killed your son, now your whole family suffer (Hey Switch)
I really get psycho, I knock the wood off the Drac', had to swap that b*tch out for a Micro (Hey Switch)
No mask, no gloves, I really get crazy
No key, just me, that P same size as a pothole
I'm a creeper, I move like a ghost
Three n*ggas just died (We did that)
We did all three, that's a toast (Hey Switch)
She was all on my wave, now I cracked that bih'
When I'm droppin' them shots, you better get down
You only got one B, you a clown
In the streets you really be pinnin' sh*t?
Lil' n*gga, you a pup, I'm a hound
Don't get in my way, I really be puttin' sh*t down
Put the bump to his head, I don't want no pounds
I get down and dirty
I don't want sh*t easy, I get my feet dirty (Hey Switch)
He died tryna reach, so I picked up his stick
We boxed his ass in, he couldn't move too quick
And I don't feel sorry for sh*t
I don't feel bad for them n*ggas, I'll never repent (f*ck them [?])
You ain't hangin' with me if you ain't tryna go kill
I fell in love with blood spill
I was ten years old with a kill
Ever since then I been sending n*ggas straight down to Hell
And f*ck this rap sh*t, if you put a mil' on his head, I'll buy out my deal (Hey Switch)
And you know not to send me no diss
And I don't rap 'bout money but I'll put a lil' ten on your biscuit
I'm a real deal creeper, I get in that car, I don't need no n*gga to come get you
I wiped his nose with that— (Frrt)
Somebody please go hand that man some tissues
You might know me from rap
But I made me a name from workin' my pistol
I creep up before I go diss you (Hey Switch)
I really crack sh*t for money
He got tricked by a b*tch, he a dummy
I don't celebrate Christmas, man, I really wrap sh*t like a mummy
b*tch keep suckin' my di*k and I'm c*mming
I pick up the rifle when it's time to go hunting
When I jump in this car, I know I'ma really kill somethin'
I ain't talkin' about no b*tch n*gga, when I jump out this car with this Drac' I'ma hump it
If this sh*t get to rolling you better get on the floor, them 7.62s coming (Hey Switch)
[Outro]
(Frrt, frrt)
Bo Jackson n*gga
(Damo Wav)