"N/A" lyrics
Fuck, fuck, fuck
MP5, MP5
Doing so much shit in my gen
Walk a nigga sto', clutch a blick in my hand
Poor ass weed, this shit not on demand
Try wit' that Lil Fye, my pockets know I got that shit
Waiting you to come back to yo' house, I'm in the back of it
Me and Lil Twin kicked down the doe', and we snatchin' shit
Take a nigga Fye, slap his brain with the back of it
I'm the reason lil bro got his gang, he panicking
12 kicked the door, and freeze up like no mannequin
Lil Lazer in the hood, where the mechanic be
Swiss cheese lick, hopping out with the ARP
I'm running off door, what I do to a fucking plane
Every time we shoot, aim for his top, better duck his face
Hit the hoe in the black truck, we got hella space
Ran off with the hoe thang, that's a closed case
Running from the jets, got hoe on my toes, ay
Beat you with a Glock, take yo' cards out yo phone case
Ain't wanna fuck I'm up in yo' mouth like some toothpaste
Me and Lil Twin take a nigga down for hella bluefaces
We jus' got the spot hot, gotta switch the location
Hit him with the Fye, he fold up like a baby
Disco pant, nigga think he in the 80s
Ask that boy, "Is he gonna shoot?" [?]
[?] I dropped that whip, I go crazy
12 trynna catch me down bad, they can't fuck with me
Ain't too many niggas, my gang, nigga police
Late night on that block, strikin' for Gen
50 round drum, can't put Fye on my pants
Told hoe she gotta fuck, so she trynna hang wit' me
Up my Lil Fye, for geeks, shoot a different 3
Spread racks on my fuckin' tat sleeve
Clutchin' on my blick, pourin' drank stuff
I don't fuck out wit' blick, Imma pop 'em out
And my block, this shit really like Pakistan
MP5, MP5
Doing so much shit in my gen
Walk a nigga sto', clutch a blick in my hand
Poor ass weed, this shit not on demand
Try wit' that Lil Fye, my pockets know I got that shit
Waiting you to come back to yo' house, I'm in the back of it
Me and Lil Twin kicked down the doe', and we snatchin' shit
Take a nigga Fye, slap his brain with the back of it
I'm the reason lil bro got his gang, he panicking
12 kicked the door, and freeze up like no mannequin
Lil Lazer in the hood, where the mechanic be
Swiss cheese lick, hopping out with the ARP
I'm running off door, what I do to a fucking plane
Every time we shoot, aim for his top, better duck his face
Hit the hoe in the black truck, we got hella space
Ran off with the hoe thang, that's a closed case
Running from the jets, got hoe on my toes, ay
Beat you with a Glock, take yo' cards out yo phone case
Ain't wanna fuck I'm up in yo' mouth like some toothpaste
Me and Lil Twin take a nigga down for hella bluefaces
We jus' got the spot hot, gotta switch the location
Hit him with the Fye, he fold up like a baby
Disco pant, nigga think he in the 80s
Ask that boy, "Is he gonna shoot?" [?]
[?] I dropped that whip, I go crazy
12 trynna catch me down bad, they can't fuck with me
Ain't too many niggas, my gang, nigga police
Late night on that block, strikin' for Gen
50 round drum, can't put Fye on my pants
Told hoe she gotta fuck, so she trynna hang wit' me
Up my Lil Fye, for geeks, shoot a different 3
Spread racks on my fuckin' tat sleeve
Clutchin' on my blick, pourin' drank stuff
I don't fuck out wit' blick, Imma pop 'em out
And my block, this shit really like Pakistan
