Body Talk lyrics
by Yatta
[Verse 1: Celly Ru]
I came in this b*tch with hella poles on me, they notice me
They gon' tell if I try smokin' him
It's brazy in the streets, you know I got my lil' bro with me
We flame sh*t in the streets, but if we in the pen', I'm pokin' him, you hear me?
See him on the Eastside and I'm smoking him
Stood there and I watched the body drop, blood, it was dope to me
I just wanna pop another opp and then go overseas
Out here by my lonely, just lil' homies, free the older G's
Huh, n*gga, I got a big bag
Is you a trick? Gettin' paid today and let the b*tch have it
Told blood that I ain't tryna fight, I just b*tch-slapped him
Hard time tryna kill that n*gga, he was zig-zagging
How you let them kill your bruh and ain't let sh*t happen?
We would've threw him in the trunk, but that'd be kidnapping
Your brother dead, b*tch, and you keep talkin' 'bout a sh*t baggie
Forty-eight hundred for the purse to make the b*tch happy
She done sent the 30K and threw that sh*t at me
I might go get an AP and have my wrist dancin'
Them n*ggas told and you still hanging with they b*tch asses
And ain't no comin' back from snitchin', I don't give passes
Lil' pus*y n*gga told and gave the run-around, we run the town
Funk with us, you better have a gun around
I just threw a couple extra shots because I love the sound
Used to love the G-Lock, got an FN, I don't want it now
[Verse 2: Rio Da Yung OG]
I ain't drivin' past and shootin', I'ma run 'em down
Hit his midsection with the Glock, he need a stomach now
I know the n*gga died when he got hit, he made a hummin' sound
Used to play the band and tote sticks, but I'm the drummer now
Big four-nickel clog his system, he need a plumber now
I couldn't shoot a ball when I was small, I got a jumper now
Shooting guard when I touch the rock, watch me put forty down
Whacked a n*gga on my InstaSnap and took the story down
I'm in Cali wearing Ballys, me and Celly Ru
Popped him in the head and keep shooting until I smell him poo
Twenty-eight shots left in the chop, I just dropped seventy-two
Hit a n*gga up close with a fifty, turn his head to two
Ayy, these n*ggas all liars
Burn a n*gga up close with the K and start a small fire
22 leave more holes in his body than a dog buyer
Try me, you gon' die, 'cause we slidin' like we on bald tires