Cartel

Lyrics

[Chorus] I got friends that go to work And they wouldn't hesitate to put in work for me Hit me for your LB's, I'll give it dirty cheap Tryna double up my money on a large scale You know my block's got guns like the cartel Think we fell off, you must be mad I just spun fifty packs out the duffle bag Tell the labels, "We ain't signing for no hundred bags" True Stories 2, I've got them running mad [Verse 1] Me and GR, that's two booters '018, the gang moving too ruthless Me and A hopped out and left the pole toothless This is F Block, we ain't shooting off of scooters Hanging out the back seat, letting straps go My first shooting, I clipped off a mango Precision Team hit me with an ASBO '021, still letting my mash go Bap, bap, bap when I see my opps I'm 'bout to cop a mad ting with some freezing rocks Yo, I ain't speaking a lot I was in the back seat stuffing teeth into Glocks [Chorus] I got friends that go to work And they wouldn't hesitate to put in work for me Hit me for your LB's, I'll give it dirty cheap Tryna double up my money on a large scale You know my block's got guns like the cartel Think we fell off, you must be mad I just spun fifty packs out the duffle bag Tell the labels, "We ain't signing for no hundred bags" True Stories 2, I've got them running mad [Verse 2] I would never lie about the things I did Go check my CV, I really ringed off sticks "My block's wet", tell 'em, "Miss me with that shit" 'Cause when I stabbed up their boss, they were ringing me and shit I ain't tryna dead beef, rather smoke dead opps I was stuck in FT, tryna spin ten shots Now I'm twenty floors up and I'm getting mad slops We don't bury no waps, burners get slapped off Cars get burned out, phones get cranked off Turn the phone back on, I'm still making mad prof I was on a dumb case, still flinging packs out Gotta love A cah he had me in a mad drought [Chorus] I got friends that go to work And they wouldn't hesitate to put in work for me Hit me for your LB's, I'll give it dirty cheap Tryna double up my money on a large scale You know my block's got guns like the cartel Think we fell off, you must be mad I just spun fifty packs out the duffle bag Tell the labels, "We ain't signing for no hundred bags" True Stories 2, I've got them running mad