Str8 Drop lyrics

[Intro: Icewear Vezzo]
Phew
Drank God
sh*t on me
(Juss cookin' it up, n*gga)
Yeah
Hmm, on God
Four hundred on in jewelry
For real
Hmm, right now
Phew, phew
Yeah
Drank God
Keep that sh*t going, gang
Hmm (What?), phew, phew, yeah, yeah

[Verse 1: Icewear Vezzo]
Bust down Rollie, I don't f*ck with no police, I up big blickie and dog, well sh*t
Real street n*gga, I don't hang with no rappers, pop out at n*ggas' shows, take all that sh*t (On God)
Four hundred in jewelry, me and big Will, n*gga, pull up on the six, yeah, we all got blick
Steppin' on sh*t, five thousand blues, good dog, take it too, mix it all with fent'
Dog sh*t Records, I was gettin' money back with Lou Gram, cookin' up lean in the pot
Hundred bands on me, slide at LD, n*gga feelin' like Mike, twenty-threes on the drop
We don't argue with opps (pus*y), we'll never squash sh*t, quit callin'
n*ggas still ain't dropped sh*t, quit stallin'
You cuffin' that b*tch we doggin'
n*gga
[Chorus: Fat Trel]
Pull up on the side of a n*gga, take the eyes off a n*gga and I don't really like to play about opps
And I'm in the trap with a light-skin b*tch, like to cook my dope di*k and I don't play about pots
Junkie had to get a quick fix, let him hit a lil' rock and he said I got straight drop
How you know I got it out the shop? How you make it lock? How you get it in with the Glock? (Hold up)
Pull up on the side of a n*gga, take the eyes off a n*gga and I don't really like to play about opps
And I'm in the trap with a light-skin b*tch, like to cook my dope di*k and I don't play about pots
Junkie had to get a quick fix, let him hit a lil' rock and he said I got straight drop (Hold up)
How you know I got it out the shop? How you make it lock? How you get it in with the Glock?

[Verse 2: Fat Trel]
You ain't gotta ask me, I'm way too nasty
Hundred K in cash, lately I been too flashy
Pop another seal 'til my b*tch start nagging
Up on all my opps, I ain't really into bragging
First day home, young n*gga get to dragging
Give a b*tch a bone, I'll smack her on the wagon
We from DC, we ain't really into flagging
Body count, b*tch, young n*gga toe-tagging
Gucci and Dior, gotta trap a lot of fashion
And I'm in the field, I ain't never played Madden
Everything you lil' n*ggas doin', I done had it
You don't really wanna see me trip with automatic
And I got a b*tch from out of town, she a savage
Middle of the winter in the rental, doin' damage
Runnin' with gorillas, it get iller, don't panic
And I'm 'bout my skrilla, kill a n*gga with the static (Hold up)
[Chorus: Fat Trel]
Pull up on the side of a n*gga, take the eyes off a n*gga and I don't really like to play about opps
And I'm in the trap with a light-skin b*tch, like to cook my dope di*k and I don't play about pots
Junkie had to get a quick fix, let him hit a lil' rock and he said I got straight drop
How you know I got it out the shop? How you make it lock? How you get it in with the Glock? (Hold up)
Pull up on the side of a n*gga, take the eyes off a n*gga and I don't really like to play about opps
And I'm in the trap with a light-skin b*tch, like to cook my dope di*k and I don't play about pots
Junkie had to get a quick fix, let him hit a lil' rock and he said I got straight drop (Hold up)
How you know I got it out the shop? How you make it lock? How you get it in with the Glock?