BlocBoy JB - Prod By Bloc lyrics

[Intro] Hah, hah, check it (word) Hah hah hah (yeah yeah yeah), check it (yeah, yeah) hah, hah (yeah yeah yeah) Hah (Bloc), hah (whoa), hah (word) [Verse] These n***as after me I got them shooters on balconies I'm gettin' head from a b**h and she Japanese (word) n***as they talkin', I'm loadin' and clappin' these Loadin' and clappin' these pistols (pistols) You are not an automatic hitter (a hitter) Really you an automatic misser f** it, I'ma automatic get you (huh?) Smack a n***a a** with the pistol (pistol) Pop a n***a a** like a pimple (a pimple) Store-store-store run, get the gun (store run) Up the Tommy, take his funds (he gone) Take the hundreds leave the ones For the strippers n***a (for the strippers) I got an SK with a shank, that's the tipper n***a (that's the tipper) Beat a n***a, sweep a n***a We don't need them n***as (f** 'em) I don't think you n***as 'bout nothin' (word) When I see you in the street (huh?), you ain't even got a gun Askin' n***as for money (word), n***a you ain't got no funds You know I do it B-I-G, you can call me Big Pun (yeah yeah yeah) But I don't smoke no pom-poms Run up, get done up (word) My clip is so heavy, I can't hold my arm up (my arm up) Y'all n***as faker than warmups (warmups) I got the bread like a farmer (I-I-I-I) Shoot like I'm Mario Chalmers (Chalmers) Workin' my wrist, f** my arm up (f** my arm up) I feel like Nash on the Suns, Mario chasin' them corn You dancin', we pull up with guns, I'm 700, you done (Crip, Crip) Got my hitters in the front like a radiator Using big words so you know they annihilate you I'm in her mouth like Now & Laters, b**h I got all flavors Bring that sh** back, no turntable Multiply that like times tables We ain't got time for that If you really want a crease, use the iron for that Now a n***a need a piece of his spinal back In a line of MAC's Ke-ke-keep that, keep that iron for that If it's an altercation, n***a we use nines for that We don't do conversations, baby we don't got time for that We ain't got time for that, we ain't got time for that [Outro] (Hey, wait) We gon' do the ad-libs (Hey, wait) Tay, told 'em go'n do the ad-libs Klay, I got your b**h callin' me a, bae And I really don't know what to, say I want her head like some motherf**in' braids And you know I'm finna, ayy, ayy, ayy And I made this beat, ayy Got your b**h and she in the sheets, ayy And we turnt up in the studio Track nation, yeah we live in this f**in' ho I got your b**h, she tryna book me for a f**in' show She gon' make you pay for it, and you already know b**h, I'm live Like Channel Five I just put 'bout a three five In a blunt, now I'm so f**in' high To the sky though n***a askin' me these questions, I'm like why though? And my n***as got that money standing five four My money standing six four, I'm in a six four with the loads Crip, Crip, Crip Crip Crip Crip Crip, Crip, Crip, Crip Crip, Crip, Crip Crip Crip Crip Crip, b**h