"Fukk 26Zombiez" lyrics
Fuck, fuck, (You fucking idiot), fuck, fuck
Dynamite come out my blick, you can't duck it
Get on that drank, I get big like LUCKI
Fine shit peeped game, forgot I was ugly
I could get my paws on anything, it ain't nothing
Raising your voice, why the fuck you keep cussing?
Wrap the shit too tight, that za' pack be musty
You headfirst in the field, we have a concussion
I just go do it, I don't plan or discuss it
Come to the field, our department get ugly
You a sweet lick in my hood, we gon' rush you
Your chain be your bread, why the fuck would you tuck it?
Let lil' twin do it, let him score him a bucket
Twelve pulled my hoodie, who the fuck you getting rough with?
They ain't know I had a tool, we got out, I snuck this
Sit yo' ass down, boy, you a Uncle Ruckus
Everybody chilling, man, I pop out on fuck shit
Do me a lick, then I hop on a bus quick
Shit in my blick hit your body, it shred up
Ain't touching munyun, got to get my little bread up
Walk with your head down, man, hold your little head up
You got a blick, what the fuck is you scared of?
Fuck (You fucking idiot)
Drac' in my pants at the show if they let me
Pull up your fire, that's a fuck nigga pet peeve
Real trench, boy, I'ma have my fire on the jet ski
Tat my little body, told my artist to sketch me
Ain't talking about no munyun- don't DM, don't text me
Nigga ahh wigging out, boy, you better tighten up
Hit at your top, hollow give you a line up
Shortcuts in my hood, twelve can't find us
They took out your starting five, they fucked up your lineup
Real drank head, before I rap, poured a pint up
Nigga act cap, get clapped trying to pipe up
Hollow pointers hit your drip, it bite stuff
He gon' trip out with that fire, that boy, he might buss'
He gon' wig out with that fire, that boy might buss'
I appreciate the love, but y'all fuck niggas bite us
Hot box stolo, pick a nigga wife up
Dark in my hood, got to hold my light up
You ain't gone finish the drank, let me get that
Nigga think the micro sweet, it got kick back
I was tripped out when I tatted my six pack
You made a wish, now you can't get your wish back
I had it for you, your guns, you missed that
Turn too my phones in my name, man
Count that money, shoot the gun, same hands
In the bricks, now my mom cook out the same pans
Why the fuck the attention on me when I came in?
See me last night, I done popped out the same pants
Post up with a blick in Saint Laurent garment
Boy, you got a hand out, you didn't even earn it, fuck, fuck
Dynamite come out my blick, you can't duck it
Get on that drank, I get big like LUCKI
Fine shit peeped game, forgot I was ugly
I could get my paws on anything, it ain't nothing
Raising your voice, why the fuck you keep cussing?
Wrap the shit too tight, that za' pack be musty
You headfirst in the field, we have a concussion
I just go do it, I don't plan or discuss it
Come to the field, our department get ugly
You a sweet lick in my hood, we gon' rush you
Your chain be your bread, why the fuck would you tuck it?
Let lil' twin do it, let him score him a bucket
Twelve pulled my hoodie, who the fuck you getting rough with?
They ain't know I had a tool, we got out, I snuck this
Sit yo' ass down, boy, you a Uncle Ruckus
Everybody chilling, man, I pop out on fuck shit
Do me a lick, then I hop on a bus quick
Shit in my blick hit your body, it shred up
Ain't touching munyun, got to get my little bread up
Walk with your head down, man, hold your little head up
You got a blick, what the fuck is you scared of?
Fuck (You fucking idiot)
Drac' in my pants at the show if they let me
Pull up your fire, that's a fuck nigga pet peeve
Real trench, boy, I'ma have my fire on the jet ski
Tat my little body, told my artist to sketch me
Ain't talking about no munyun- don't DM, don't text me
Nigga ahh wigging out, boy, you better tighten up
Hit at your top, hollow give you a line up
Shortcuts in my hood, twelve can't find us
They took out your starting five, they fucked up your lineup
Real drank head, before I rap, poured a pint up
Nigga act cap, get clapped trying to pipe up
Hollow pointers hit your drip, it bite stuff
He gon' trip out with that fire, that boy, he might buss'
He gon' wig out with that fire, that boy might buss'
I appreciate the love, but y'all fuck niggas bite us
Hot box stolo, pick a nigga wife up
Dark in my hood, got to hold my light up
You ain't gone finish the drank, let me get that
Nigga think the micro sweet, it got kick back
I was tripped out when I tatted my six pack
You made a wish, now you can't get your wish back
I had it for you, your guns, you missed that
Turn too my phones in my name, man
Count that money, shoot the gun, same hands
In the bricks, now my mom cook out the same pans
Why the fuck the attention on me when I came in?
See me last night, I done popped out the same pants
Post up with a blick in Saint Laurent garment
Boy, you got a hand out, you didn't even earn it, fuck, fuck
