2016

Lyrics

(Intro) Fredo 2x in this bitch shorty, RIP my shottas 2016 summertime... (Verse) 2016 summertime shootouts and them drive-by's Idon'tregret shit tookmy bro Jrugz and it's beenon since We been on bags that's why these opp bitches on our dick These shottas all lit, they catch em' slipping get em' gone quick Ain't never been the type to throw the towel when it's smoke I catch one outta' bounds and threw that nigga foul for my bro No I don't wanna' drive I'd rather walk him down all alone And if they in the crowd then Imma' clear the crowd on my own Take mе back to junior we were postеd outside on them bikes Never thought I'd see the day one of my shottas lose they life Never thought I'd see the day I'd have to go and roll that dice But it get real brodie, and I can't let you hop up in this vehi if you won't kill for me Still rolling, tryna' catch a body cause' they won't do it Still bending finger on the trigger I stay close to it The day I die, don't wanna see you cry know what you feel for me So I don't wanna' hear it, just prove to me that it's real brodie Still love him, even on the days I feel the hate more Sometimes a nigga need a hug sometimes need you to pray for him But wait for him cause' everybody left him when he fell Shit he was walking through a storm and somehow find himself in hell (Interlude) It's all facts Karma I can't tell a lie to you On my mom gon' keep my slammer I don't plan on dying on you Fuck what the streets say Ma' your shotta realer than em' all You done really raised a legend promise Imma' make you proud (Verse 2) She say her baby boy official as they come without a doubt Don't like it when I hit the hood so when I go I'm in and out And the clip on the glizzy see-thru so I can see when I'm running out And I plan on letting it out so as I'm blowing Imma' count Send him to the lost and found They won't be able to ID him It's gon' be a genocide if they in traffic and we see em Bitch we 4 deep, we got 4 slammas' we don't give a fuck about no cameras We masked up try and act up and we do the dash can't catch us tryna' up the score on them once again and tell them fuck niggas come catch up on VMONEY This 17 got 34 you ain't gon' tweak with me Turn him to a pack this nigga name gon' be a block How they sleek we sliding creep don't care who's ready or who's not We gon' keep smoking all these opps I make em' feel me every track And no I can't afford to lack, Karma might stab me in my back And I can't afford to lose my shottas every trip I'm gon' get back Right or wrong they know I got em' that's on my big brodie Nat