"36" lyrics
Fuck
Shit
57 Joker, get out the box, lil' bro get him popped
Red tips stuffed in 30 Glocks
Lil' bro might run him down, lil' bro do him bad, you don't want smoke with Fast
Stick hold thirty-six, I got dirty blicks, I bet flame don't miss
Baby 40 kick, but I got hella blicks
Pour that shit up in a red juice
Bitch, I ain't gotta rock out with La Flame
Dump the 40, stick got range
Might just walk down with lil' gang
He was cappin', don't want smoke with Fast, rapid-fire blast
We gon' jump out with a dirty MAC, tape on thirty mags
Pussy cappin' like he finna make a call, pussy, make the call
Bitch, I got ammos for some years, bitch, ain't no runnin' out
Bitch, I been sleep for hella days, this drank, it got me down
Think you gon' walk down with your fire? Bet you don't make it 'round
Freaky ho wan' invite me to telly, wanna sip on Crown
Lil' Fast might pop out in my merch, got y'all dealin' shirts
Promise I'ma dump my fuckin' fire, bet I go berserk
Lil' bro won't even draw down on Lil' Fast, we pop out Sixth Ave
You ain't on no fuck shit when you pop out, better stay at home
Bitch, I got thirty in my glizzy, plays on my phone
Fuck
Shit
Bitch, I'm really drippin', tailored jeans, pop out with a load
We might draw down to a party blicked up, I can't lack at shows
I thought buddy was gon' catch the kill, no way lil' bro froze
Gotta do him bad, hit his drip, hit that lil' boy clothes
Niggas post a caption, but in real life, they get exposed
Buddy steady eatin' pills, I'm steady blowin' gas
Bitch, I got zaza in my blunts, bitch, we blowin' thrax
Lil' bro 'dem ready to smoke an opp just like a pack of Blacks
Fuck
Shit
Shit
57 Joker, get out the box, lil' bro get him popped
Red tips stuffed in 30 Glocks
Lil' bro might run him down, lil' bro do him bad, you don't want smoke with Fast
Stick hold thirty-six, I got dirty blicks, I bet flame don't miss
Baby 40 kick, but I got hella blicks
Pour that shit up in a red juice
Bitch, I ain't gotta rock out with La Flame
Dump the 40, stick got range
Might just walk down with lil' gang
He was cappin', don't want smoke with Fast, rapid-fire blast
We gon' jump out with a dirty MAC, tape on thirty mags
Pussy cappin' like he finna make a call, pussy, make the call
Bitch, I got ammos for some years, bitch, ain't no runnin' out
Bitch, I been sleep for hella days, this drank, it got me down
Think you gon' walk down with your fire? Bet you don't make it 'round
Freaky ho wan' invite me to telly, wanna sip on Crown
Lil' Fast might pop out in my merch, got y'all dealin' shirts
Promise I'ma dump my fuckin' fire, bet I go berserk
Lil' bro won't even draw down on Lil' Fast, we pop out Sixth Ave
You ain't on no fuck shit when you pop out, better stay at home
Bitch, I got thirty in my glizzy, plays on my phone
Fuck
Shit
Bitch, I'm really drippin', tailored jeans, pop out with a load
We might draw down to a party blicked up, I can't lack at shows
I thought buddy was gon' catch the kill, no way lil' bro froze
Gotta do him bad, hit his drip, hit that lil' boy clothes
Niggas post a caption, but in real life, they get exposed
Buddy steady eatin' pills, I'm steady blowin' gas
Bitch, I got zaza in my blunts, bitch, we blowin' thrax
Lil' bro 'dem ready to smoke an opp just like a pack of Blacks
Fuck
Shit
