Smoke

Lyrics

[Intro: Drego] Yeah, this bitch bang for sure I ain't gotta say too much I'll let this shit speak for itself Man [Verse 1: Drego] They like, "Drego, where you been gettin' money?" I cock back this bitch, it'll get ugly They say all your bitches bad, but you're ugly I just flashed a sloppy roll, this shit ugly Come and get your bitch, get her off of me Instance you can roll the dice, better not one-two-three I gotta check my pulse, see what this thot say She probably hit my pants, "What's in my pocket, bae?" And she said you lie too fast, get back Yeah, I touch a lil', bae, ain't no getback This bitch a fully, boy, you better get back Your bitch keep callin' me, can't get her off of me [Verse 2: BandGang Javar] You say it's smoke, we pullin' up like a fire truck (Where it's at?) Boy, you know who on Telegram shot us three hundred up Should've seen his fat ass, he was scared as fuck (Ham) Moved his mama off Wickham, guess she in luck (Bitch was lucky) [?] tried to hold me on Twitter, he was mad as hell (Lame) Two can play that game, caught him at the Shell Wavin' the stick like Harry Potter when he do a spell Blow him like birthday candles, ain't no show and tell R.I.P Spotty (R.I.P) Behind that, a nigga must've caught ten bodies Free Stone, I'm sick he did that last job sloppy I flipped a quarter point to bro like he the one shop (Lame) [Verse 3: BandGang Jizzle P & BandGang Biggs] Slidin' in that— Me and bro be on that one shit, ayy Can't believe them niggas left that one shit Fuck it, turn around, double back, light up the whole whip So many shots, left the streets smoky than a bitch In and out there was tappin' out, 1-800-SPEAK-UP (Speak up) Niggas sick as fuck around this bitch that they can't keep up King Von, that's how I'm feelin', all these niggas wanna be us I feel like Kobe in his prime, they better D up, nigga Niggas broke as hell like they need a reup Off-White sandals, chillin' with my feet up One call, them boys'd treat you like a free lunch No [?] feet up (Ayy, ayy), nigga (Come on now) [Verse 4: BandGang Biggs] Rose called me for this verse, you know I'm pullin' up (Come on now) Shit, Rose need a nigga murked, you know I'm pullin' up (Yeah) The raid vans just missed me at the trap, I got that good luck (I got that good luck) You the type be tryna run and get your foot stuck (Lame) I'm the type be doggin' bitches, do them bitches bold Fuckin' cold, get 'em in they feelings then I send 'em home Put you on, run off with my pros, kill you in your home That nigga must ain't have nobody he should be here for 'Cause play with me, them youngins put you on obituaries (Yeah) January 1st, your ass'd die by the time it's February Never worried, even in the shootout, I be thinkin' clearly Brodie know some shit that's worth some M's, but he'd never sell it, BandGang