Opp Pack lyrics

[Intro]
Damn, damn
Broke the Internet (Tell you what)
Put that n*gga ass in the dirt
I'll tell you what, are you doing too much talking? (Free kill)
f*ck wrong with you? (Free kill) I'll tell you what, though
What? What?
(Staccs on the beat, so it sound different)

[Chorus]
Know it get hot in the streets, so I gotta keep a cooling kit on the table (Dig?)
Nowadays, the first thing a n*gga do is start fake beef, then sign to a label (Dig?)
New opp pack in the air, go ahead and gas him up, inflate him (Dig?)
Poke a n*gga up with the mask on, talkin' 'bout Jason, ain't talkin' 'bout Tatum (Dig?)

[Verse 1]
I cannot beef with a n*gga, he dead
I got some n*ggas I raised from the dead
I was brought up to keep one in the head
No, it's no talking, my name is not Ted
I'm gonna give these lil' n*ggas the blues, won't stop 'til I see a whole lot of red
Popping these Percs, on a whole lot of meds
Kill all the opps and then run from the feds
Tie that b*tch up in the bathroom 'cause you know this a home invasion
n*ggas on the net talking all that tough sh*t, tell the n*gga drop location
I'ma let the hollow point come out the blick just 'cause I like vibration
Nowadays, a n*gga die over a b*tch when it all was an entanglement (Dig?)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I can't beef with that lil' n*gga, he dead (Dig?)
Yeah, I can't beef with him, he dead
Murder your mom, shoot your dad in the head
I got some jewelry, it cost me some bread
f*ck all the jewelry and f*ck how I paid
Throwing the paint, we was toting the lead
We sleep with guns that's stuffed inside the bed
[Chorus]
Know it get hot in the streets, so I gotta keep a cooling kit on the table
Nowadays, the first thing a n*gga do is start fake beef, then sign to a label
New opp pack in the air, go ahead and gas him up, inflate him (Yeah)
Poke a n*gga up with the mask on, talkin' 'bout Jason, ain't talkin' 'bout Tatum

[Interlude]
Yeah, yeah (Dig?), yeah, yeah, yeah (Dig?)
Yeah, uh, yeah (Dig?)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah (Dig?)
Yeah, yeah, yeah (Dig?)
Yeah (Dig?)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

[Verse 2]
I'm gonna walk in your crib with the chop, when I walk out, I'ma leave with a limb
Told you lil' n*ggas this was an invasion, I kick the door, I feel like I'm Zay
He had a choice, he ended up taking the harder way, I'm calling him Tim
Bro will kill you 'cause the color of your brim, 12 will kill you 'cause the color your skin
Kill a street n*gga and it don't mean sh*t, kill a rap n*gga and get famous
And I'm gon' kill every rat I see, I'ma kill 'til they endangered
Takin' these penitentiary chances, you know that I gotta stay dangerous
You was my homie, you stole from me, so you know I gotta chop off your fingers