Dreadlocks

Lyrics

[Intro] Yeah [Chorus: Bugsey] Deebo Smoke to your face like a heat stroke Man down, put that on my dead locs Man down, put that on my dreadlocks Shot, shot, shot, shot, T hot Bust down kettle, not a G-Shock If she hoppin' in the coupe, it's a bed rock Lift the suicide doors at the next stop Shot, shot, shot, shot [Verse 1: Young T] Please don't play games I got niggas in the back with the A Ay I don't love her, hit her then I do the race We can tell by the way Brodie told me that the trap's doing great Yeah, I'm so away I can't save you, gotta leave you in the maze Push the suicide doors up Ay, I'm in a Porsche Cooling with a rich porter D'n'G for my daughter Yeah, Jimmy Cole for my new bitch Got quap, move block like rubicks In the coupe, bust a dance to the music Drop the top, make her lose it [Chorus: Bugsey] Deebo Smoke to your face like a heat stroke Man down, put that on my dead locs Man down, put that on my dreadlocks Shot, shot, shot, shot, T hot Bust down kettle, not a G-Shock If she hoppin' in the coupe, it's a bed rock Lift the suicide doors at the next stop Shot, shot, shot, shot (Yeah, yeah, yeah) [Verse 2: Bugsey] I was running up and bumming out the big bucks Got a driver waiting for me, I'm a big shot 16 when I knew I want my wrist flood Swiss gleam when you're looking at my wristwatch All the heat, I can't leave it in a cooler If he in a jeep then he most likely the shooter See, my niggas in the back came with the ooh-rah Gotta tell 'em to relax, take a woo-sa Doing graveyard shifts for my fivers Who'd have thought I would've went school with some lifers? Hit it in the past, only found out that he wifed her Told my bro change but he loyal to the lycah At the Fendi store but she'd rather go to Michael Kors Pigs got my niggas dashing 'round the courtyard Ten toes in my Fours Still whip it like I'm Louis in the Porsche, yeah [Chorus: Bugsey] Deebo Smoke to your face like a heat stroke Man down, put that on my dead locs Man down, put that on my dreadlocks Shot, shot, shot, shot, T hot Bust down kettle, not a G-Shock If she hoppin' in the coupe, it's a bed rock Lift the suicide doors at the next stop Shot, shot, shot, shot [Outro] Rudebwoy stop 'e noise man Weh yuh know bout bloodclaat good tings? Weh yuh know bout di shoes yah, dem shirt yah Dem bloodclaat pants yah? Stop yuh chattings man