With The K lyrics

[Verse 1: DC2Trill]
b*tch, I'm off a six now
Get up off this Gary Peyton, call the captain 'cause it's crunch time
Fake-ass trapper hittin' up my phone because I'm up now
Model b*tch suck my di*k and then I blow this blunt down
Coming down, b*tch, I know you see me (Vroom, vroom, skrrt)
Urus Lamborghini
Fake ass OG, don't care 'bout what you say
I know my ABCs, I got FN, but I use the K

[Chorus: DC2Trill]
Hit 'em with the K
Hit 'em with the K
Hit 'em with the K
Hit 'em with the K
Bust down on a pint of Wock', might sip this whole thing today
Street broke-ass n*gga, I'ma meet him in his dreams today

[Verse 2: DC2Trill]
I'm with your dream b*tch on Rodeo Drive
n*gga try to take my belongings, n*gga, that's suicide
I ain't have to call no f*ckin Uber when it's time to slide
Hit 'em with the K or F&N, now he on MRI (Phew)
Wagyu steak my plate (Damn), Lil' Moe eating great (Yeah)
He was acting ADHD, I hit him with the K (Yeah)
Yes, I know my ABCs, chopper made him dance like Zay
Poured up vanilla Canada Dry, but, b*tch, I ain't never Drake
Lil' b*tch suck the D well, so I gave her letter A
Smoked a blunt with Stevie Wonder, said the ether lookin great
b*tch, I feel like OKC, give me the ball, I'll do great
She ain't get a thing from me, she just like the way I taste
Hit him with that glizzy G, now that boy an organ donor
He got hit with three K's like a f*ckin' slave owner
Beat his ass at his next show, Lil Moe gon' push up on you
I'ma pour this pour of four, then this Russian b*tch gon' lick my c*m up (Phew)
[Chorus: DC2Trill]
Hit 'em with the K
Hit 'em with the K
Hit 'em with the K
Hit 'em with the K
Bust down on a pint of Wock', might sip this whole thing today
Street broke-ass n*gga, I'ma meet him in his dreams today

[Verse 3: Warhol.SS]
n*gga done say he street, boy, you capping
I just took two of them yercs, now I'm relaxing
Mask on, mask off, we gon' get it active
I ain't even f*ck that ho, but she my slave, run that pack up (Gang, gang)
Hit his jack, fours on, dopey in my ozone
You talk too much, can't prolong
That money calling, gotta postpone
Made 4K off four phones
That's sixteen like I'm Uzi
Ayy, Glock 17 on top my seat, you want me, then come do me
Bag it up, we gon' send 'em home, call up TSA
b*tch, I'm being cool, but you tweaking, let that nina spray
Dozing off them opiates, but, f*ck it, pour another eight
b*tch, we been gettin' money, we got bigger plates you never ate
Ayy, ayy, gang, gang, gang, gang, gang, slatt
DC, that's my brother, same thing, boy, we outside
My little n*gga putting in pain-pain, leave 'em pressurized
b*tch, we shooting, but I can fight a lil' dirty, we gon' poke his eyes
[Chorus: DC2Trill]
Hit 'em with the K
Hit 'em with the K
Hit 'em with the K
Hit 'em with the K
Bust down on a pint of Wock', might sip this whole thing today
Street broke-ass n*gga, I'ma meet him in his dreams today

[Outro]
I love singing new sh*t, like—
Keep working, I never stop working
You know what I'm saying?
Even when you feel like you tired and you can't go no more, n*gga, reach down in your bag and go raw, n*gga
Take that tiredness and sh*t, take that sh*t as a weakness, n*gga
We ain't weak, n*gga, we gangsters, n*gga