A-1 - Walked In (Freestyle) lyrics

(Trillzee) Look like J back when I walk in the building (R.I.P) All the broke boys be grillin, cuz they hoes I'm k**in Loc see an op he k** him Clutcho roll with extension A1 wheelin and dealin Ride down your street I'm pillin, in the fiend bug I'm pillin [Trillzee] My name tricka-trillz hoe you gots to love me All of these b**hes be actin funny Wanna f** Wop cuz he got some money, so much paper I could wrap a mummy I know her baby dance with a jack-a-flunky, couldn't buy his daughter a pack of huggies Baby we can f** you ain't gots to cuff me, ate her cat then its back to the trap with junkies Walked in the club like its paid in full, I'm the landlord b**h obey the rules Curry my clip so my banger full, but one shot from this prolly tame a bull OG Wop, yeah I pay my dues, Lafamil pack we a gang of wolves Call A1 he gon bang the tool, that n***a snatching souls like he taking shoes This is the finals we golden state, team full of shooters so know your place Found where you live then we roam your place, catch bodies then bodies get thrown in lakes That n***a a s**er I know he fake, call up the drummers I orchestrate f**in her mouth dick broke her face, swallow nut then she hit me with the poker face [AntLoc] On the day I got out I was thinkin about coming straight to your house in the fiend bug With the Glock on my hip and the smith in my hand when you open the door I just mean mug Mothers and kids get down on the floor, if you do not listen n***a green slugs I'm outta the kitchen, I'm straight water whipping, just so I conserve on my fiend drug I just hit a lick, I rob my connect, now I'm the plug n***as keep talking while [??] then feelings hoe team up A1 snatching souls, he's up in the poles, for the love of the bros Call Wop with the Wop, he load up the chop, then spit on your block Free the guys and you know its f** Po Po, double barrel and that sh** leave potholes Imma leave your mother bacon for your oppo, hatch with the Mac shoot a n***a pronto Money team shot lil bro Honcho, Trey Dukes straight boot on the oppo Red dot serve a n***a called squacho, king pin n***a you can call me Pablo [A1] Big four pound keep gun at all times, I ain't like them n***as that be lying in their rhymes Call the plug, get the pack, back on my grind, I f** her and dip cuz she wasting my time I'm smoking oppers, out my dutchie palma, I won't conversate if he ain't talking commas Think I shot at you will take it how you wanna, floating n***as thats that toogy with that llama Open n***as, time to smoke them n***as, thought I told them n***as They don't really want them problems, never lacking pistol packing, I ain't lying Ask your main mans what happen when we caught him Lafamilli really gettin to the chicken shot at rocky make a living out the kitchen Messin up the pots, I hate them dirty dishes, but it got me where I'm at I'm tryna get it Every day and night I'm rollin with the pipe, living by the gun you don't know how I'm feelin Broad daylight I be wheelin and dealin, I'm a dead man walking till somebody k** em' [Clutcho] 50 bad b**hes in my iPhone, we got Saran wrapped bricks in the trap home I got Mac shells for a n***a backbone, it seem like max flow when n***as get cracked on Spill lean on my dutch, like I season my blunt and I stay in the cut like some blood that dried up And the choppa look like it been snowing for month, and the choppa clip look like its loaded with blunts I can spend then I leave boys break dance, and her head targets cuz I fill about eight caskets Headshots turn your head to a great basket, they don't spend they pepper sleet when I straight pa** it Boom packs buy weed like I'm a faces, if I be up see you up to still take your sh** Just to let people know that you ain't on sh** on some real home hater nor fake bout sh** (Trillzee) Scalin Saturdays n***a I know I got talkin bout sh** at the end all the time you know its the f** I do Most y'all n***as turn it off anyway Run it back, f** it, Gang!