"ProdbyFxce" lyrics
Huh, yeah
Y'all know what the fuck goin' on
I made this bitch too, you know?
Alright
First off, nigga, Fxce made the beat
I'm in a BP with Tay B, a Drac' won't do a thing
Breakin' all the seals up on my pape', so I can make a sleeve
The reason why you can't find your lil' baby 'cause she out with me
Everybody can't go, bro, you might lose some friends
Broke my arm but I still ain't fuck up my sh— bitch
Broke my arm and crashed the Lamb', still ain't fuck up my shootin' hand
We don't allow no threats, you say that shit, you might as well do it then
Only thing that's gettin' dropped is a pop
Bought a hoop and trampoline for all kids that's on the block, yop
Fuck the prosecutor, bro, I understand that's your job
Tryna fry me for a Glock 'cause it was stick, and it had one up top, tuh
And we ain't gon' talk about the other shit
How you say you love me and you don't even know my government?
Bullets shoot so hot, you can't even stop it with no oven mitt
Fuck a XXL Break, I need the cover, bitch
Salute to gang and 'nem, though, y'all deserve that
If I miss my shot, I'm like G Herbo, I'ma swerve back
Thirty inches all the way to her back, my lil' bitch bad
Beatin' from the back until she cry, now she on my ass
Pull up in a CT5, that bitch pootin' shit
I get a hundred percent rights 'cause I produced this bitch, huh
Call up BabyChief, we gotta do some shit
Dog like baby teeth because his ass be movin' loose and shit, huh
Man, y'all niggas better tighten up
If you don't wanna lose your bitch, better tie her up
Touch this, now he in a 'Wood, bro-bro, fire up
They like, "Fxce, you hardest out, you just don't drop enough"
They like, "I miss when you was independent"
I'ma drop some more for y'all, just give me a minute
Matter fact, I'm droppin' some tomorrow, go make sure that you listen
Fishbowl, they catch you with no tint, them niggas goin' fishin', huh
Pull up with them poles, but not no open-face
Almost popped him, he was just tryna ask how much a open-face
Huh, don't post me with that button, I got a open case
The reason it's with a X 'cause I got more strikes than a bowling game
If you know, you know, but if you don't, that's better
Whip black, stick black, Ricks black, they all leather
And you can't forget my bitches, they all pressure
I'm on the South right now, I told 'em, "Come meet me at Chesters," huh
I'm feelin' good, better ten, I hit that seven
Give his ass the belt, don't expect no hand if he don't learn his lesson
She tryna do that to me, bitch, you better impress me
Get off on me, we gettin' over back, bro, this shit like checkers
Y'all know what the fuck goin' on
I made this bitch too, you know?
Alright
First off, nigga, Fxce made the beat
I'm in a BP with Tay B, a Drac' won't do a thing
Breakin' all the seals up on my pape', so I can make a sleeve
The reason why you can't find your lil' baby 'cause she out with me
Everybody can't go, bro, you might lose some friends
Broke my arm but I still ain't fuck up my sh— bitch
Broke my arm and crashed the Lamb', still ain't fuck up my shootin' hand
We don't allow no threats, you say that shit, you might as well do it then
Only thing that's gettin' dropped is a pop
Bought a hoop and trampoline for all kids that's on the block, yop
Fuck the prosecutor, bro, I understand that's your job
Tryna fry me for a Glock 'cause it was stick, and it had one up top, tuh
And we ain't gon' talk about the other shit
How you say you love me and you don't even know my government?
Bullets shoot so hot, you can't even stop it with no oven mitt
Fuck a XXL Break, I need the cover, bitch
Salute to gang and 'nem, though, y'all deserve that
If I miss my shot, I'm like G Herbo, I'ma swerve back
Thirty inches all the way to her back, my lil' bitch bad
Beatin' from the back until she cry, now she on my ass
Pull up in a CT5, that bitch pootin' shit
I get a hundred percent rights 'cause I produced this bitch, huh
Call up BabyChief, we gotta do some shit
Dog like baby teeth because his ass be movin' loose and shit, huh
Man, y'all niggas better tighten up
If you don't wanna lose your bitch, better tie her up
Touch this, now he in a 'Wood, bro-bro, fire up
They like, "Fxce, you hardest out, you just don't drop enough"
They like, "I miss when you was independent"
I'ma drop some more for y'all, just give me a minute
Matter fact, I'm droppin' some tomorrow, go make sure that you listen
Fishbowl, they catch you with no tint, them niggas goin' fishin', huh
Pull up with them poles, but not no open-face
Almost popped him, he was just tryna ask how much a open-face
Huh, don't post me with that button, I got a open case
The reason it's with a X 'cause I got more strikes than a bowling game
If you know, you know, but if you don't, that's better
Whip black, stick black, Ricks black, they all leather
And you can't forget my bitches, they all pressure
I'm on the South right now, I told 'em, "Come meet me at Chesters," huh
I'm feelin' good, better ten, I hit that seven
Give his ass the belt, don't expect no hand if he don't learn his lesson
She tryna do that to me, bitch, you better impress me
Get off on me, we gettin' over back, bro, this shit like checkers
Writer(s): Efren Blackwell
