Lyrics

[Chorus] Fuck nigga wanna mug He don't know I got the .40 in the club He don't know I got my shorties in the cut Crunchin shit goin' very nuts Pull up, hop out, shootin' shit, bring cops out He don't know we got Glocks on us, he think we gon' knock him out He said that he want war but he don't know Can't tell that little boy what he don't know [Verse 1] It's me and Dirty Thirty, bullets fly, like little birdy birdy The only pimps I know is Mac and Dirty Thirty With a Tec, told a 50 you can't have Larry Birdy Yeah they say money, power, respect But bitch its money, power, the Tec Point at your block and won't even have any regret You fuck niggas be knowing how we get So don't get screwed, I got some niggas with a bunch of tools They come through screwin' shit like [moppers do] Like don't be talkin' what my choppa do Turn your block to Lil B bitch, Wonton Soup, pull off in my Lady Gaga coupe I got Hannah, Lady Gaga too, lotta bullets fly, that's what I do [Chorus] Fuck nigga wanna mug He don't know I got the .40 in the club He don't know I got my shorties in the cut Crunchin shit goin' very nuts Pull up, hop out, shootin' shit, bring cops out He don't know we got Glocks on us, he think we gon' knock him out He said that he want war but he don't know Can't tell that little boy what he don't know [Verse 2] He don't know, got so many cars, when I pull up he won't know He was talkin' to this bitch, she was suckin' me, he don't know And this bitch want blue dream back, I'm like "you don't know" What I smoke? Better smoke OG, I like Ben Franklins baby, I don't fuck with no Gs Can't wife no bitch 'cause these hoes be fuckin' lowkey 'Cause you thought your bitch was your bitch but she was suckin' on me That thot act like she ain't know that Almighty So got cinnamon rolls That nigga act like sneak dissin' me gon' get him on It's me and Ben Frank, I don't like people, me and him get along Blow your block, givin' out shots for the face just silicone Cops won't know, unless one of you lil fuck niggas snitchin' on me Shootin' up houses: living rooms, bedrooms, and them kitchens on 'em Shootin' up cars: front seats, passenger seats, and them engines on 'em [Chorus] Fuck nigga wanna mug He don't know I got the .40 in the club He don't know I got my shorties in the cut Crunchin shit goin' very nuts Pull up, hop out, shootin' shit, bring cops out He don't know we got Glocks on us, he think we gon' knock him out He said that he want war but he don't know Can't tell that little boy what he don't know