M-Eighty - Shot Caller (Freestyle) lyrics

[Intro] [Verse 1: M-80] f** these n***as mean, M.M.B the team Them n***as Want beef But be running on the scene But I dont wanna talk, cuz them n***as gon' stalk And them n***as gon' rat, and I'mma turn into a Hawk f** That, You know we getting faded, Coffee Park And the whole team winning check the stats on the charts Been said its time for change, but dont no where to start Its like, How they claim they G's but they ain't trying to play they part? sh** real, sh** Cray, Ever Since my bro Gone So I'm Jacking D-Gang I got it tatted on my Arm And it's everything K, You either eating or you starve And You know I got the Munchies I be Higher than a star [Verse 2: Von Don] Man f** the Law, But we keep the money & order When you hear them shots hollar, call that sh** a shot caller Playing both sides, we dont f** with them Opp R's A non believer in love cause we cupid shuffling Cards Homies making sells like its n***as at they garage Trynna stay away from bars, so a n***a be spitting bars 80 Got Deion Tatted on his bear flesh Fly n***as, you would think my n***as grew up in a nest All thses haters probably thinking that we trynna gain props But they ain't running sh** if anything we run them off the block Washing n***as dishes like we was doing the pantry And then we roll up the sour like we gon' smoke on some candy Running this sh**, Enough stamina left Wonder bout my bro but got to hold my chin up like cleff n***as being kept behind enemy lines Who are they to judge why they on our case all the time 24/7 n***a stay on the grind A n***a be so devine cuz a n***a be smoking vines Treat em like old n***as put them on retire Swipe these n***as with the blades thats when they life expire [Verse 3: Smoovee Leek] They dont even know about my Clientele Its Young Smoovee Leek, No YSL I get high as hell, You n***as Gotta respect it Pocket full of a bunch people that got elected What else? (What else?) And I got some Ben franks Damn my b**hes a** fat, your b**h got that Pancake Leek is a Stand up guy, you can't stand straight Lock one of you lames in an attic like ann frank My Bro Gone when I get there tell them lift the gates Trynna be a real n***a, come here let me demonstrate I got drive like I'm riding on the Interstate See us flexing we the reason why they started lifting weights Higher than some shorts, Caught up in my thoughts Swear to god I need to get-away like a resort Everything for D, Swear to god we miss you Hit him with the magazine if they got a issue It's M.M.B we be macking on the block repping Yeah we got them hair triggers and the clips got extensions Potato on the gun, turn that sh** to large fries Light skin, but I could really bring you to the dark side You just be talking yall n***as is not balling We call them n***as who shoot so my n***as is shot calling Call me handyman leek you could catch me with a toolie b**hes acting hollywood so we tell them "lets make a movie Only 17, you old n***as better step it up Coming for the top spot and we never letting up With MO Blood, we everywhere, we never scared Break your leg have your bone popping out like kevin ware This is me, and im trynna change like the meter Running around looking for mary jane like peter Trynna smoke like me, but you can't, follow the leader Weed loud like black people inside of a movie theatre Ain't nobody Ill as this, Young Lyracist, I be k**ing sh** Trynna Avoid imprisonment, Tell the judge that im innocent' Wasn't given a good hand, I still deal with it All of this stress just get me tired like Michelin Walk in my shoes, but the shoes dont fit You wanna build that house you got to move those bricks Move those bricks, you get locked up, it dont make sense Smoke a Blunt of Mary then I clip her like Blake Griff Sip Slow, Got My speech Slurred like Frenchie When the cops come we put that hardaway like penny All these trash n***as in the game, man they ain't rapping right Smoovee Leek I'll eat any beat f** an appetite