Gudda Gudda - Chiraq (Freestyle) lyrics

[Verse 1] Long clip hanging out that P95, Ruger co*ked We mobsters, catch you eating that pasta knock your noodle out I'm from New Orleans, East Side where make a n***a k** you for a bag of dope When the drought comes we selling soap, we selling dreams, we selling hope Assault rifle with a telescope, I can hit a n***a from long distance Peyton Manning, strong precision, two arms stroking like I'm going swimming Whats wrong with them, they sleeping on me, I'ma start handing out pillows n***a Then use the same pillow to muzzle the shot coming of my pistol n***a Get your issue, and I ain't talking about magazines to read to I'ma read you with a magazine with 30 shots and leave you Lethal weapon I'm Danny Glover, shoutout my n***a, Thugga Thugga Choppas in the backseat, but where I'm from we call em cutters I'm not the one to be f**ed with, don't battle rap with me n***a Get ampted up to get amputated n***a Turn the booth to a war zone, any rapper get k**ed quick, Construction worker with tools on our belts, n***a We drill sh** I spit nothing but ill sh**, somebody go call the doc Make a phone call to my shooter n***a, thats what I call, calling shots Ridin round bumpin Soulja Slim while my young n***as snort a bag of dope He got a red rag no stopping him, if I green light you, you gotta go I'm in LA with the homie Term, I hit him its emergency He coming through with them mob n***as, they paint these streets burgundy I ain't come her to play n***a, its finna be a hot summer Guddaville 4 coming soon, and LAT its our summer n***as sitting on twitter talking that tough sh** they hella scary I send n***as with masks to send your sh** back to Neveruary Shoutout to my team yeah, Carter V on the way My sis Nicki bout to drop something so you rap b**hes move out the way Drizzy that's my brother n***a he know I'm one call away Tyga Tyga I see you youngin, don't worry let these n***as hate 'Bout to catch a flight to Miami and sit down with my three bosses All money, f** b**hes, whole stone cold like Steve Austin n***as ask when my album dropping, b**h whenever I want to I could stand on my own two But I'm staying loyal to my own crew Young Money Cash Money, bank accounts on overload My mixtapes are Free Crack like Lil Bibby make 'em overdose I been hot, I make these n***as bow down and kiss the ring Walk straight in K.O.D. and balled on 'em like Mr. Clean Make your girlfriend polish me, we call it shining head like Mr. Clean Glock 40 with a beam on it, that red laser don't miss a thing Young Gudda, high yella, I'm back on my Ross sh** Take it back to '02, I'm back on my squad sh** n***a High yella, Young Gudda, I'm back on my Ross sh** I take it back to '02, I'm back on my squad sh** n***a