K’s & Mac’s Out lyrics

by

Q Da Fool


[Hook : Big Flock]
When I'm sliding; Bring the K's and the Mac's out
Every time I f*ck your b*tch, pull her tracks out
Guns on the market, n*gga, bring your racks out
Pray to Allah, that lil brodie don't crash out
Overdose on Percocets till' I pass out
Your baby mom in my crib with her ass out
Try to run down and lil n*gga, you're ass out
He think he a shooter cause' he brought his mask out
Call up Q Da Fool he moving the packs out
My n*gga Guapo get work from El Paso
I'm exposing n*gga, bringing the facts out
Rap ain't working then I'm taking the crash route
Run up on ya' I ain't pulling my mask down
And my cousin out here moving the smack now
n*gga disrespecting me he get smacked down
I'm a shooter I ain't putting my strap down

[Verse 2: Q Da Fool]
n*gga's talking but they never gone' slide
n*gga's watching so I keep my .45 - Bah
One in his eye; n*gga try you could live in the sky
I was high, I was sleep in the sky
Pop a Xan and I shot up his ride
That boy went to court with a suit and a tie
Oh my god, man that boy got to die
Real n*gga; Real n*ggas beside me
In the trenches I could trap out the alley
In the suburbs I could trap out the valley
Had to score cause' a n*gga was fouling
Rich n*gga, hustling really my talent
500 Xans and I'm finna' get more
10 pounds, I got 5 in the floor
2 with my b*tch; 3 with my whore
Cooking up Molly, I'm finna' cook more
I cleaned his ass up, yeah I did my chores
My brother got locked cause' he was kicking doors
I gave his main b*tch intercourse
I been balling, n*gga no court
Gas came in; Got bars by the door
Can't marry a b*tch cause' I'm gone' get divorced
These drugs I love, and these streets I adore
Nobody safe if I ever go poor
Study True Religion I know Allah and Lord
If I don't got the Glock then you know I got a source
[?] got locked for robbing a store
Then came a temp and the charged me some more
Rich n*gga I feel bad for the poor
Rich n*gga I got a bags on the floor
Rich n*gga I feel bad for the poor
Rich n*gga I got a bags on the floor
[Hook : Big Flock]
When I'm sliding; Bring the K's and the Mac's out
Every time I f*ck your b*tch, pull her tracks out
Guns on the market, n*gga, bring your racks out
Pray to Allah, that lil brodie don't crash out
Overdose on Percocets till' I pass out
Your baby mom in my crib with her ass out
Try to run down and lil n*gga, you're ass out
He think he a shooter cause' he brought his mask out
Call up Q Da Fool he moving the packs out
My n*gga Guapo get work from El Paso
I'm exposing n*gga, bringing the facts out
Rap ain't working then I'm taking the crash route
Run up on ya' I ain't pulling my mask down
And my cousin out here moving the smack now
n*gga disrespecting me he get smacked down
I'm a shooter I ain't putting my strap down
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