Grande Marshall - GODBPM lyrics

[Intro] f** my enemies b**h Actin' bad and gettin' rich Uh Uh Uhhhhh [Verse 1: GrandeMarshall] Free all of my fed homies Rest in peace to my dead homies f** that other sh** n***a Lets get this bread homie One time for the real n***as For them I will k** n***as Stand in front the judge and never tell And never squeal n***a Two times for the freak hoes Murder mommies who respect the G-code Keep her nose high and her heels too On twitter like "Grande im trill too" My n***a, my n***a, my n***as is n***as For life young n***as wit a attitude How you mad at that? That ain't real rap? f** n***a you still stuck in 92' Hollow in yo head, this ya brain on d** Didn't momma tell you, "young n***a don't mess with them thugs!" Don't be no enemy of mine Don't be no fake friend either Cause all that's gon' get you's a bag And a trip to the preacher And I worked too get this sh** But I'd fight harder to keep it Cold nights I slept with the heater And a full clip a'soul eaters Kept that mask on handy A couple sacks a' that candy A couple of blacks my n***as Outback who wanna get off? fine n' dandy I know you f** n***as been waiting Been craving to hit something Taking pages outta Craven's n***a Creepin' and bumpin' We on that bullsh** n***a Go head and bullsh** n***a Keep grabbin' life by the horns And end up as bullsh** n***a Chuuuch! [Hook] This sh** make a n***a wanna get some bread or buss a head(x3) Or f** my enemies b**h, actin' bad and gettin' rich (repeat x2) [Verse 2: GrandeMarshall] Black flags at full sail Black mask with a gold shell Titties hangin' out her camo jacket Pack a 22-platinum Chanel Hearin' threats but I ain't hearin' shots Gettin' hate but I ain't gettin' shot n***as talk but n***a don't chalk Young n***a with a old soul I came up wit a rare breed Ain't no future in frontin' n***a Since a young bul I been a OG What's money to me? What's hoes to me? What's d** to me? That's a lick n***a Ridin' round with the windows down You hear the sounds in those sets n***a That set n***a! (that set n***a!) Uhh, what that smell like? Mixing weed, embalming fluid Burn it like a gas pipe Reaper in that crown vic Creeper in that champ hoodie Angels in that blunt wrap Eatin' in that zip n***a My ghetto got the blackest nights Runnin' from them blue and whites Skippin and bouncin' on street lights Word to the L and neither nights Raw hide shawty, rubber never touch my b**h n***a Everytime I bust know there's a rubber on my grip n***a! [Hook] [End]