Dispatcher

Lyrics

[Intro] Are you in the mafia? Sick you came foul like that Am I in the what? [Chorus: Damedot & Ace Cino] Blrrt, that's the dispatcher Somebody get some help, it's been a kidnapping Fly to Cali, buy the presents then I gift wrap 'em Phone on do not disturb 'cause my shit slappin' I don't listen to y'all niggas 'cause y'all big capping Quit yappin', I'll have lil' brodie push your shit backwards Phone on do not disturb 'cause my shit slappin' Fuckin' strippers in the mansion, Chi Chi kill Patrick [Verse 1: Kitchen Qleen] Y'all niggas never had a bag, quit all that RiFF RAFFin' Y'all out here, we pourin' up sixes and y'all be six-packing California King, fucked her on that big-big mattress My phone on do not disturb because my shit slapping, ah [Verse 2: Ace Cino, Damedot & Kitchen Qleen] I can show you how to catch a bag, bitch, I'm Chris Hansen I can make it disappear, bitch, I'm Criss Angel I'll hit my dope fiend with that woo, I done Ric Flair'ed him Drank got me noddin' too hard, Chi Chi said I scared him Put your hands on my dog, lil' boy, I dare you Put your hands on Kitchen Qleen and we gotta air you Ah, you put your hands on Damedot, I'ma electric chair you You put your hands on Chi Chi, then I ain't gon' spare you [Verse 3: Ace Cino] I catch you in the wolves with my wolves, it's gon' be unbearable Blrrt, blrrt, dispatcher say we did him terrible Blrrt, blrrt, plug say them bitches bomin' aerial Them trap still full of stupid dog like Muriel (You stupid dog) [Verse 4: Damedot] That's your nigga answer I just got the head from her, dog, ain't shit happened I be really on that road, boy, I get active Phone on do not disturb 'cause my shit slammin' [Verse 5: Kitchen Qleen & Damedot] Ah, off top, RGS, bitch, we the mob This ain't made for you bum niggas, you need a job Fuck a bitch in the backyard with her feet in the pond Ah, you eat with the snakes, I eat with the lions [Verse 6: Ace Cino & Kitchen Qleen] Flights out to LA, we boolin' with slime I bool with Dame hoes, he boolin' with mine Ah, sorry, mama, I done grown up I'm on the way to your house to tear the stove up You see some circles in the fridge, it ain't no donuts I bet these bands make your bitch do a toe touch (Ah) And we don't do no drive-bys, we do drove-ups Bar for bar, I got this rap shit sewed up Perc or bar, I got this trap shit sewed up Pop the trunk, I'm 'bout to pick another load up Scoot on over, I'm 'bout to pick another ho up Blrrt, blrrt, we countin' pros up, please don't disturb us [Chorus: Damedot & Ace Cino] Blrrt, that's the dispatcher Somebody get some help, it's been a kidnapping Fly to Cali, buy the presents then I gift wrap 'em Phone on do not disturb 'cause my shit slappin' I don't listen to y'all niggas 'cause y'all big capping Quit yappin', I'll have lil' brodie push your shit backwards Phone on do not disturb 'cause my shit slappin' Fuckin' strippers in the mansion, Chi Chi kill Patrick