MaRLo - Good Dope lyrics

[Chorus: Marlo & Gunna] Got a n***a stackin' caps I'm servin' them bags, I run through 'em all dog f**in' on your b**h when you call dog You a b**h goin' through a b**h call log And the Hi-Tech red, that's real raw Take a sip of that n***a, wash the pill down He a gangster but a n***a still squeal now f** boy tell me how you still real now I can hit my lawyer, get ten pounds Too late for you try to be real now Soup truck coupe, switch lanes now I pull up to the show Balmained down Copycat try to have the same sound Cooked up good dope, run the J's out Pull up with a stick, put a bullet in his mouth Never cashin' in, took the cash route [Verse 1: Marlo] And them sold out dates got a n***a back in they bag You reach for the cash and I bust at your a** And I was just sippin' on Act Got a bustdown cuban link choker, mink gotta match b**h say she wanna f** me, no strings attached And I was gettin' fresh just to work in the trap When the trap came, n***a got work in the map And don't talk on phones, n***a workin' that tap [Verse 2: Gunna] n***as owe the mob, better pay they tab Whole lot of money, gotta keep my strap Tried to stop sippin' syrup but a n***a relapsed Bangin' my gang like a motherf**in' frat I don't love a ho, I can never get attached Gave your a** a loan and you better bring it back Push up on your ho, she was lookin' like a snack n***as play tough 'til a n***a get whacked All the coupes fast, n***a might as well drag Hundred thousand cash in the Goyard bag Pull up in your hood n***a, I don't need a pa** All blue hundreds, got these f** n***as mad Robbed a lil n***a, ain't have to use mags Two-hundred twenty, n***a had to do the dash k**in' all you bullies, think you bad to the bad Marlo countin' Coogi with two hundred on the dash [Chorus: Marlo & Gunna] Got a n***a stackin' caps I'm servin' them bags, I run through 'em all dog f**in' on your b**h when you call dog You a b**h goin' through a b**h call log And the Hi-Tech red, that's real raw Take a sip of that n***a, wash the pill down He a gangster but a n***a still squeal now f** boy tell me how you still real now I can hit my lawyer, get ten pounds Too late for you try to be real now Soup truck coupe, switch lanes now I pull up to the show Balmained down Copycat try to have the same sound Cooked up good dope, run the J's out Pull up with a stick, put a bullet in his mouth Never cashin' in, took the cash route