Lab Work

Lyrics

[Verse 1: J1Hunnit] Yeah, hollows feel like hellblazers, shouldn't cut the team Block hoes who blowin' up my phone constantly You that help, lil' dog, you like a son to me I like to fuck niggas' hoes, that sound fun to me I don't know how I get pape', it just come to me She got a smart-ass mouth, the head dumb to me Ten milli' on the kid, Mike Conley Airdrop me a box, magic contra piece [Verse 2: Prince Jefe, StanWill & GlockBoyz TeeJaee] Nigga never blew his pole, he can't run with me All we move is loads, don't do nothin' cheap Put him on the floor, he gon' do the weak You don't undеrstand us 'cause the code all my niggas spеak Jubilee bust, I'm with two or three sluts Drop the top on the spider, punch the coupe and leave dust In the Trackhawk speedin', press the pedal, speed up Tryna blow a thirty-ball next to my reup Just left Hutch with some yaes, brodie Double C'd up She keep tellin' me she love me, I know it don't mean much (Yeah) [Verse 3: GlockBoyz TeeJaee] We fuck around and bust your head for nothin', that's how we was raised Bando look like Master P, pull up black truck, ten chains It's hard to miss when you hop out with the switch You ain't never fucked a backup, had to buy another zip We just pulled up then left, we only came for your wrist Probably never had no money if you scared to take a risk Better watch how you be movin' when you catch us out in traffic We'll send you up to God and pull back to the block laughin', nigga [Verse 4: ShredGang Mone] I'm the nigga callin' plays, John Madden Send my niggas on a route, they pull up with Glocks blastin' Got them fullies in the whip, why would we stop in a strike? Give my mans the green light and he stoppin' his life Once we hear that it's a go, Wock' drop in a sprite Drums all in the whip, we with the shottas tonight Still, that one nigga bust a nigga head for a presi' Now he step inside a bot like the Mannequin Challenge [Verse 5: $weet-T] I can get you what you need, I'm the man for the challenge If you say you need a bird, I'm the man with the talent I do it twenty-nine for one or two for fifty, Mr. Allen Tryna add me like my clique, but you ain't got the talent 21 tucked, this bitch'll knock you off your balance Three-five'll take your bitch to Wonderland just like Alice So many 'bows, I could fill a couple pallets I got a shoebox full of paper like I'm countin' up the ballots