Pop Smoke

Lyrics

[Intro] Traphouse Mob Ayy CZR, you did a mazza still Got a message for you, bitch Yo, spread the word Top shottas are back [?] are y'all down with us? [?] [Chorus] Huh? I beg you, somebody tell me I'm lying Anyone wan' talk about Camden, it's the Malis that got that fryin' And they say they got beef with the Malis But the Malis got dem man dying Tryna do them like my bro-bros done Yo, my bro-bros wa-llāhi, I'm trying [Verse 1] Ey, gang don't lean and bop Man lean with a ting, then let that bop If mum sends you, don't go shop Cah I'll CT step or I AG bop We, Pop Smoke and still put blades in and out mans top Last time that the gang-gang got hungry, went five guys and put a guy on the top Oh shit, pardon me, I lied Gang went Cumbo and one of them died All of that verbal, where's that now? Don't scream and shout, just say bye-bye This unknown tried scream out Crez His last words before the guy got skied I heard Syko's up in jail He ain't claiming beef and his cars got ride R.I.P, mama na ngai Kamani, come outside Pu-pu-purge gang who? What? Where? It's been a long time, I ain't seen them guys Do it in Tory, then in the Waters We finding Nemo, the boy wan' hide How can a gang go block to block and vacate both? Cah they don't want die [Chorus] Huh? I beg you, somebody tell me I'm lying Anyone wan' talk about Camden, it's the Malis that got that fryin' And they say they got beef with the Malis But the Malis got dem man dying Tryna do them like my bro-bros done Yo, my bro-bros wa-llāhi, I'm trying [Verse 2] Ey, reverse, bro Handbrake turn let me skid and skrrr Who's that Jareer yute over there? Got my eyes on his T like a Fendi shirt If I don't know, man G check him Tryna see angles bent like Kurt Don't get yourself hurt and add to the list Especially don't care about your face on a shirt How the range on this dot-dot shit? When the 12-gauge ting got a nose like Cardi, ay Two shells later, bow-bow and handle the kick like Mr. Miyagi Anywhere go, see a opp, he's ghost I'm crashing him now like kamikaze She can never be my wifey Hold these shells, she can still be Barbie Camden, AG, CT1 We hop out, creep up, get man gone I don't know my man's face from nowhere Who's this yute? Brudda, where you from? Please be the Cumbo, please be the shank Three dead, dot-dot, and they still won't run Most of the gang in jail, all gone We the last ones left, and we still ain't done [Chorus] Huh? I beg you, somebody tell me I'm lying Anyone wan' talk about Camden, it's the Malis that got that fryin' And they say they got beef with the Malis But the Malis got dem man dying Tryna do them like my bro-bros done Yo, my bro-bros wa-llāhi, I'm trying I beg you, somebody tell me I'm lying Anyone wan' talk about Camden, it's the Malis that got that fryin' And they say they got beef with the Malis But the Malis got dem man dying Tryna do them like my bro-bros done Yo, my bro-bros wa-llāhi, I'm trying