Lyrics

[Chorus: Peedi Crakk] It's like a sherm high, niggas think they learn to fly But you burn motherfucker, you deserve to die It's like a sherm high, niggas think they learn to fly But you burn motherfucker, you deserve to die [Verse 1: Indy 500] For one, I ain't playing with niggas It's like, man look how I tee off niggas bruise with the first shot Like I've been training for months, hustled for years Praying forever, fucking these bitches, which way do I go? Rocking these fitters, not fucking with niggas Hustling harder, [?] my daughter, fighting her mother It's like I missed thе fork on the road, I'm going in circles Thesе niggas'll hurt you, I'm keeping em near They sheisty as lawyers, I'm pleading the fifth I'm busting the fifth, I'm jumping with Magnum, through a hommy with Crakk We losing the guns, we eating and running You toying your life, you keeping it moving Records or grams, Gun or knives, bats or bottles? Wide a goose, friend or foe, love me or hate me I'm spitting the raw, cooking it later, giving samples to smokers You niggas is jokers, loading the shells Checking the mail, rocking these shows, fucking these groupies Loving the game, what could be better, what could be worse? It might sound easy, my flow keep going Your gun keep showing, you telling me something; clutch my burner "Nigga fuck you too!" ready for war Ready to score, march through when my gun'll react The place we roam, Indy and Crakk; Ying and Yang Guns and 'Gnac, crime and murder Summertime, play the steps, sipping Piña colada Smoke my loosie, look here scrap This is the same coke, cop it and roll Niggas is drawn, plucking my nerves Testing my patience, same situation [Verse 2: Peedi Crakk] Toast to the gangstas, but I don't drink with strangers Make a broker out of a hanger, got a demon inside of my finger Yuh, get a barrel and spin I cut the sentence short with one hot black talon Goodness gracious, hot balls of fire, pause Blackjack your face, dawg your jaw wired R-O-C, criminal records You mad, go get a pad you a menstrual fag Sick and I'm moving, sipping a grooving Shifting the stick; manoeuvre in the whip Racing time and losing Blades and razors scraping and shaving Keeping my patience when dealing with niggas, because trenches Touch the demons in my finger, Oh this is Whoa You ain't gon' like me but I bust my heat, give me a righteous reason Counting my felons, watch how my youngins plotting for gunfire Rubber band on my hundreds, dropping dollars off Empire Fake billions, make a million saying slanders FBI espionage supply my hammers Throw my hand up, M-P Broadcasting live from a, anonymous location [?] Out of innocent civilian faces, oh I kill a nigga while he taking a dump, shaking the pump One more left, which way do you want? Head or chest This ain't fiction, [?] vest [Outro] First the MAC go Ringgggg And when it's done it go Tinggg First the MAC go Ringgggg And when it's done it go Ting-Tingg The MAC go Ringgggg And when it's done it go Tinggg First the MAC go Ringgggg And when it's done it go Rrrrrrragh