"Same Sh*t" lyrics
Baow, baow
Baow, baow, baow
(It's Nico in this bitch)
Yo
B-B-B-Booter
Spinners, dotties, Glock 9s, hella sweets
New clip for this Glock long like a limousine
Went jail, I came home, catch me on the same shit
Summertime, I'll still make a block rain quick
Yo, I hit him with the dots, then hit a twenty-pound shot
Fifty-pound shot, fuck with my set and get got
They can't hide, even in jail, we're getting down opps
Me and M buying all the burners for the block
I shot a man the first day that I bought it
I got money for a vid, get him down and record it
She said that I'm boring, all I rap about is boring
We send heat out and keep scoring
Gang shit, backstage in Manny, two hand tings
Run up on me wrong time, that's both waps banging
Run up on him, pitch black, left his arm hanging
Rap star, trap star, still pack-slinging
Still up on them dirty roads, still riding, burning clothes
Ask A and M, they both know, big sticks, pogo
Get the drop, I'll roll 'round, lock off your postcode
F Block's a no-go, F Block, we're so cold
Spinners, dotties, Glock 9s, hella sweets
New clip for this Glock long like a limousine
Went jail, I came home, catch me on the same shit
Summertime, I'll still make a block rain quick
Yo, I hit him with the dots, then hit a twenty-pound shot
Fifty-pound shot, fuck with my set and get got
They can't hide, even in jail, we're getting down opps
Me and M buying all the burners for the block
Every video I shot, had a dotty or a G9
I ain't just a rapper, better approach me and be wise
You can't drill rap, you ain't slapped it more than three times
Four times, five times, six, seven, eight
Got the drop where he works and he got shot on his break
Got the drop where he lives and he got shot by his gate
Tell the feds, "It's only music, my bars are all fake"
The opps are all washed, there's not one man I rate
Police hate me and so do the pagans
I'm beefing snitches, don't make me post up the statements
Post up on opp block, two dotties, two shavers
Guarantee we wake up the neighbours
Spinners, dotties, Glock 9s, hella sweets
New clip for this Glock long like a limousine
Went jail, I came home, catch me on the same shit
Summertime, I'll still make a block rain quick
Yo, I hit him with the dots, then hit a twenty-pound shot
Fifty-pound shot, fuck with my set and get got
They can't hide, even in jail, we're getting down opps
Me and M buying all the burners for the block
They know what's fucking going on
True Story 2, the mixtape, on the way, let's go
Bah, bah, bah, bah
Baow, baow, baow
(It's Nico in this bitch)
Yo
B-B-B-Booter
Spinners, dotties, Glock 9s, hella sweets
New clip for this Glock long like a limousine
Went jail, I came home, catch me on the same shit
Summertime, I'll still make a block rain quick
Yo, I hit him with the dots, then hit a twenty-pound shot
Fifty-pound shot, fuck with my set and get got
They can't hide, even in jail, we're getting down opps
Me and M buying all the burners for the block
I shot a man the first day that I bought it
I got money for a vid, get him down and record it
She said that I'm boring, all I rap about is boring
We send heat out and keep scoring
Gang shit, backstage in Manny, two hand tings
Run up on me wrong time, that's both waps banging
Run up on him, pitch black, left his arm hanging
Rap star, trap star, still pack-slinging
Still up on them dirty roads, still riding, burning clothes
Ask A and M, they both know, big sticks, pogo
Get the drop, I'll roll 'round, lock off your postcode
F Block's a no-go, F Block, we're so cold
Spinners, dotties, Glock 9s, hella sweets
New clip for this Glock long like a limousine
Went jail, I came home, catch me on the same shit
Summertime, I'll still make a block rain quick
Yo, I hit him with the dots, then hit a twenty-pound shot
Fifty-pound shot, fuck with my set and get got
They can't hide, even in jail, we're getting down opps
Me and M buying all the burners for the block
Every video I shot, had a dotty or a G9
I ain't just a rapper, better approach me and be wise
You can't drill rap, you ain't slapped it more than three times
Four times, five times, six, seven, eight
Got the drop where he works and he got shot on his break
Got the drop where he lives and he got shot by his gate
Tell the feds, "It's only music, my bars are all fake"
The opps are all washed, there's not one man I rate
Police hate me and so do the pagans
I'm beefing snitches, don't make me post up the statements
Post up on opp block, two dotties, two shavers
Guarantee we wake up the neighbours
Spinners, dotties, Glock 9s, hella sweets
New clip for this Glock long like a limousine
Went jail, I came home, catch me on the same shit
Summertime, I'll still make a block rain quick
Yo, I hit him with the dots, then hit a twenty-pound shot
Fifty-pound shot, fuck with my set and get got
They can't hide, even in jail, we're getting down opps
Me and M buying all the burners for the block
They know what's fucking going on
True Story 2, the mixtape, on the way, let's go
Bah, bah, bah, bah
