When I get to swerving on ’em, spinning the curb up on ’em
Sending Suburbans on ’em and we lurking on ’em
Ain’t no funeral service for ’em (Boom, boom, boom)
I’m on a mission for ’em, Sniper Gang got the vision on ’em
Never snitching, go to prison for ’em (Nah)
Hundred round drum, thirty clip is on ’em, blood dripping on ’em
P***y n***a went against the gang, you know that’s a violation
Penalty is d**h, take his last breath
Bullets burning, like I’m frying bacon, n***as dying waiting
Never mind the hating, I’m a General, n***a (Blicky the Blicky)
I’m about to put an end to you n***as
n***as f**ed your baby momma, spent up all your money
All you did was tell on them n***as? (Bands, bands, bands, bands)
You was with this gang banging, you was tryna be like 22
I’m responsible for all you n***as (Blicky the Blicky)
I’m the realest n***a, tell the truth (Bop, bop, bop)
And I know I might alarm, nobody thinks you a Don Q
Thirty round knocking off a limb, maybe leg, head, plus an arm too
I could look into your eyes, know you never been on a mission
Some n***as be b***h and never really listen
Get put in a ditch and now his momma missing
Might put out that hit and now we gotta get him
We caught us a lick and now we gotta wet ’em
This s**t ain’t no diss, ain’t no Tory Lanez
I pull out that blick and leave no remains
You don’t want these Blicky n***as parked inside of High Bridge
Look what I did, got the ladder hanging out the stick
Looking like a high bridge, you could die, kid
F**k Real-Right, y’all can s** a d**k and get k**ed too
Y’all know damn well who got y’all mans hit
Even Kooda blooded, just spilled too
k**ing n***as then I rap about it, like I’m Melly, n***a (Sike)
Ain’t no s**t that you could tell me, n***a (Right)
Murder on my mind, is you ready, n***a, I’m a deadly n***a
Can’t compare my s**t to none of these b***h n***as
Not JD, not D Sav, and especially not that snitch n***a
Blicky the Blicky, the Blicky, the Blicky, the Blicky, the Blicky
Soft a*s n***as
Stop f**in’ calling my name, son (Gang, Gang, Gang)
Y’all n***as don’t put in no work, for real though
Y’all don’t want us in person
Y’all know how that s**t get
On God
s** my d**k
B***h we roll in threes, two Blicky’s shooting and one driver, that’s how it’s suppose to be
P***y, you ain’t never k** a body, can’t get close to me
We gon’ keep on flipping, spinning blocks until they all deceased
Invest in a ratchet or a casket (Blicky, the Blicky, the Blicky)
They never be where they suppose to be
I got the heat to control streets (Control the streets)
I bet this d**k will control your chicks (Yeesh, yeesh)
Couple head shots, gon’ expose his dreams
You caught a opp and then flew to Miami (Yeah right)
That n***a lied
All of my opps took a trip to Miami (Pussies)
I wonder why
I’m with them Snipers and Blicky’s don’t panic (Sniper, Blicky)
Either way n***as die
I just came home, I beat it, don’t care to go back
That young n***a wilding (Gang, Gang, Gang)
If the n***a Real-Right, tell the driver bend right
G Herbo get herb too
Post on my pic then delete, I’ll murk you
But shout out to Chiraq, I know where the guys at
Spinning with Rugers, so you better duck
Or they aim where your mind at
Grrrrtttttt, boom!