Thigh Pads lyrics

[Intro]
(Wake up, F1LTHY)
Blap! Blap!
Yeah
50!
Everything 50 n*gga
You know everything Global n*gga
(Global!)
Yea
Rich Slime

[Chorus]
Totin that stick like a Taliban
I got shooters and you know they from Iran
I'm full up off drop, so you know I'm kickstand
I'm tied in, all my n*ggas they some made men
My n*ggas start sprayin n*ggas like they spray cans
We teardrop sh*t, I don't do no fades man
I know his ass ain't bout it, that's a phase man
I'm rockin LVs up on my face no Ray-Bans
I put his ass on a plate now he steak man
I'm so 7:30 bruh these n*ggas late man
I been a real n*gga I'm seein through the fake man
I'm countin that plata you know his ass gon hate man
Aye
I'm in the trap wit them thigh pads
I don't see these n*ggas man I'm like a blind man
Got double-down straps on me and they compact
My shooters start spinnin all that sh*t like Chiraq
He still got popped it only cost me 5 racks
(Blat, blat, blat)
[Verse]
I see the sh*t on the screen just like IMAX
I'm full up off drugs you know I'm switching climates
These n*ggas gettin touched n*gga like they iPads
That n*gga got popped and he ain't even fye back
I'm shootin off rip so I don't gotta shoot back
I been gettin n*ggas toe-tagged
You ain't talkin bout plata then I ain't even for that
My notes is so thick man I can't even fold that
Yo b*tch went missing but that hoe ain't kidnapped
Yeah
All my choppas they got kick-back
She don't do drop so why that hoe done relapsed?
My pockets on Fat Joe yea they got me leanin back
You know I stay slumped on the drugs like Ski Mask
I told that b*tch chill out yeah I'm finna be back
He tried to play slick he thought I wasn't gon see that
Damn
n*gga got shot up on the real got sh*t-bagged
Banana clip on me like I'm Bin Laden
I feel like Flippa cuz you know I been having
I'm making them straight deposits yeah I been stashin
My b*tches stay fly as f*ck you know they in fashion
I'm strapped wit that judge ain't talkin bout no Mathis
My shooters slow as f*ck yea they always crashin
Yea
Cold heart like assassin
I'm countin that money you know that sh*t my passion
Watch I'm bout to cross a n*gga like it's backwards
You talkin bout gang then you know that (sh*t happened)
These n*ggas fake as f*ck yeah I know they BAPPIN
Three straps on me how the f*ck I'm lacking?
My b*tch in that Benz she hoppin out the G-Wagon
Spittin fire like a dragon
[Chorus]
Totin that stick like a Taliban
I got shooters and you know they from Iran
I'm full up off drop, so you know I'm kickstand
I'm tied in, all my n*ggas they some made men
My n*ggas start sprayin n*ggas like they spray cans
We teardrop sh*t, I don't do no fades man
I know his ass ain't bout it, that's a phase man
I'm rockin LVs up on my face no Ray-Bans
I put his ass on a plate now he steak man
I'm so 7:30 bruh these n*ggas late man
I been a real n*gga I'm seein through the fake man
I'm countin that plata you know his ass gon hate man
Aye
I'm in the trap wit them thigh pads
I don't see these n*ggas man I'm like a blind man
Got double-down straps on me and they compact
My shooters start spinnin all that sh*t like Chiraq
He still got popped it only cost me 5 racks
(Blat, blat, blat)