Scotty Cain - NBA Smoke (Young Boy Diss) lyrics

Published

0 481 0

Scotty Cain - NBA Smoke (Young Boy Diss) lyrics

f** a n***a two times and f** what they be reppen' You p**y cause' you had a n***a 'round... f** a n***a two times and f** what they be reppen' You p**y cause' you had a n***a 'round just 'for protection You two faced it Might be a rat, and you scary A n***a kilt yo dog and you ain't [?] Aye hold up [?] talkin' reckless When you ain't have no money b**h I kept it real when all them n***as say you dumbing You came riding 'ery n***a dick just 'fore the feature I just bat a n***a a** to sleep I can't wait till I see you Instagram pro? You thankin' it's a joke? You sayin' you 'on smoke b**h I'mma let it blow Mask on, gloves tight How tha' f** you gon' know Glock and tha' .44 Since you wanna put on a show Up with tha K and I spray Up with tha K and you late Mitch, my name must be gay I'mma hit you with this b**h and leave you layin' out the gate Yeah, first 48 n***a, you know I'on't play I'mma k** you broad day I'mma slang the f**in' K You know I'm comin' with drums I'm k**in' errybody, don't leave a witness You know I'm 'bout that Show me where your house at b**h I'm comin' clear the bidness Lil bit a** n***a trippin' I'm clutchin' and stitchin' Hit 'em in his back shut his nerves down now he ain't got feelin' I creep with the same cutta' I put on that [?] This b**h ain't good enough? I dig out that otha' roid I keep me a pocket knife, that cutta' [?] as my otha' squad I catch a n***a, it's on site b**h Imma send you to the undergod Yeah I'm comin' for her I'm comin' for him I'm runnin' from 'em I'm gunnin' for 'em I'mma hit 'em up I'mma bust [?] Lil b**h a** n***a, you a f**in' munchkin [?] I'm clutchin' my weapon Since someone wan' test me I'mma Gucci Mane stretchin' I'mma give his a** a blessin' All I need is .38, that Glock that be extra Drop this song, wish you neva' woulda' did it Hit you with this b**h so many times You gon' wish you wasn't trippin I got a cutter with yo' name on it Just fo' the dissin' Tell 'em send me 400 grand when you come up missin' After you dead I'm f**in that lil ratchet hoe you kissin' Don't let Dame catch you, he gon' crash out k** you an' cop out fo' the time and leave yo a** thought I'mma k** you, beat the sh** And still be back outchea with that same bullsh** b**h I got a full clip b**h! Bang