He ran up on the chop, he’s a boxer
Pow, right in the kisseeer
This a stick, this a drum, I’ll drop somethin’, n***a
Pow, right in the kisseeer
I’ma shoot the K until the cops come
Pow, right in the kisseeer
We did him like that ’cause he’s a spot burner
Pow, right in the kisseeer
Pull up with the stick with the drum, who wan’ run with me?
Pow, right in the kisseeer
Stupid shells dumping out the chop, it’s a hundiddy
Pow, right in the kisseeer
I’ma pull it out the Louis bag, don’t come for me
Pow, right in the kisseeer
I just stomped a n***a in some Christian Louboutins
Pow, right in the kisseeer
I just shot a n***a granny house, don’t care who in there
Pow, right in the kisseeer
I can’t trust the ni**as that I hang with, they be shooting kids
Pow, right in the kisseeer
I’ll smoke a n***a like a Swisher or a pack of cigs
Pow, right in the kisseeer
I’ll pull on with a chop on the opps and split a wig (For real)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
I broke his b***h, he poppin’ it, now I’m poppin’ on Fig
Pow, right in the kisseeer
We didn’t drive-by, we walked him down, put him in a ditch
Pow, right in the kisseeer
I got this FN’ll cross a n***a, treat him like a Christian
Pow, right in the kisseeer
In my Christian Louboutins runnin’, chasin’ me a victim
Pow, right in the kisseeer
The 7.62s flippin’ll put him in a blender
Pow, right in the kisseeer
A bartender, I give him shots, now he look drunk like he on liquor
Pow, right in the kisseeer
Those are not Glocks, buddy, those are ghost guns (Those ain’t real)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
My homie smoked too many opps, he don’t got no lungs (He ain’t even got no lungs)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
.223 shells, n***a, that’s for King Kong (That’s for them big-a*s ni**as)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
Go play that Ruth’s Chris, b***h, that’s my theme song (We eat at Ruth’s Chris every time we walk s**t)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
In this Bally backpack is a big strap (Got some s**t that really can’t even fit in this backpack)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
He got flipped, hollows turned him to a Big Mac (Turned his dumb a*s to a burger or somethin’)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
Dead man, that’s a homie you can’t get back (He’s no longer, he can’t come back)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
Strippin’ every buster n***a at them kickbacks (They have no chains on, bro)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
Ridin’ around the city with two straps, I feel like John Wick (Feel like I’m Wick)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
Caught him front our store, so I flicked him like a Bic (Like a lighter)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
b*tches choosin’ sides ’cause they knowin’ we the s**t (We them ni**as, we got sticks)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
We don’t give ’em s**t, we just run ’em, then we dip (We dip, we run ’em)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
Bro dropped fifty, so I had to place the order (The order, I placed it)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
Chop his head off and throw his body ‘cross the border (I flipped him like a quarter)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
You is not a slider, n***a, you the hood porter
Pow, right in the kisseeer
You could date the b***h if you got the fee to afford her (You can’t buy that b***h)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
He’s never coming back and that’s that
Pow, right in the kisseeer
I’ma shoot it ’til my hand cramp
Pow, right in the kisseeer
I ain’t finna go in bareback, b***h
Pow, right in the kisseeer
You love me, then come let my friends crash
Pow, right in the kisseeer
I caught him lacking in a C class
Pow, right in the kisseeer
We gon’ have to run the beat back
Pow, right in the kisseeer
You go against the team, you need cash
Pow, right in the kisseeer
I caught his mama at the repass
Pow, right in the kisseeer
Another n***a dead, you gotta deal with it (I mean it’s been a long-a*s time)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
You an internet thug, I’m in them real trenches (You just pop it on the ‘Gram, you weird-a*s n***a)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
He wanna squabble up, I wanna kill ni**as (I’ma hit him with this chop, we ain’t gon’ box)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
I’m from the Stinc Team, it’s all real ni**as (We runnin’ s**t, y’all weird)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
I nutted in her face and told her deal with it (Splashed all on her motherfu*kin’ face)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
I was cooking in the county on the grill, n***a (I was whippin’ up all type of fancy s**t)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
I was really in K-Town takin’ field trips (With Ling Ling, Mei Ling, Kim Jong, and all them)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
All dome shots, we tryna split wigs (We tryna rearrange some s**t)
Pow, right in the kisseeer
Man, ni**as know what the f**k goin’ on with ni**as
(Pow, right in the kisseeer)
Man, he’s never coming back and that’s that, n***a
Man let that s**t go, bro, like
This s**t is ridiculous like (Pow, right in the kisseeer)
You ni**as still holding onto grudges and all that s**t from three years ago, man, like (Pow, right in the kisseeer)
I’m just saying, like, y’all ni**as, like
Come on, bro, like (Pow, right in the kisseeer)
Like, like, it’s over with bro, like, man, like, like, come on, bro (Pow, right in the kisseeer)
He’s never coming back and that’s that
Like (Pow, right in the kisseeer)
Like, just face it, bro, like y’all just holding onto this s**t like, n***a
(Pow, right in the kisseeer)
What y’all gon’ do, wait ’til somebody else get flipped? Like, what’s goin’ on?
Like (Pow, right in the kisseeer)
Yeah, exactly, n***a, yeah
(Pow, right in the kisseeer)
(Pow, right in the kisseeer)
Pow, right in the kisseeer, pow, right in the kisseeer, pow, right in the kisseeer (Pow, right in the kisseeer)
Come on, bro (Pow, right in the kisseeer)
He’s no longer
(Pow, right in the kisseeerrr)