LYRIC

[Hook] Tick tick, tock tock
This is for my niggas on the Fig Fig block-block
51st street down on Ver-ver-mont-mont
Busta ass niggas get their shit-shit pop-pop
Hey hey

[Verse 1] 9 hours passed, stuck in the ground, still eat
Creeping, hiding from the cops [?] your squeek
Tried to shake 'em off 'til them siren lights blink
Floyd bailed me out so I'm out the next week
Put my tail on the beat then I'm back to the streets
Black Chuck's astro, being fly as can be
My gun in my reach, beef ready to feast
And the lyrics like a priest, they ready to preach
I continue on the saga, keep my lady friends on Prada
Hoes never liked to bother, now they beg for the ménage
Flow so proper, get the buzz like Vodka
Got her to the crib, better dub then I knock her
Death before dishonor, my loyalty in marijuana
Puff puff pass, get your mind of the drama
Try to stay away from snitches, grimey hoes and bitches
Good girls to misses, let's enjoy the riches

[Hook] [Verse 2] Verse 2, yo, I'm raising the tempo, it get sicker
Write you up a 16 now for her coke pictures
Reminiscing of all times I fall liquor
Say they bomb first, but nigga I bomb quicker
This rap shit a passion, I mix it with the fashion
Snipe a nigga from the booth, Q a rap assassin
Serve her, got a new bitch, half Persian
Still got a shoe fetish, gotta stay splurging
Corner block serving, watch for the suburbans
Local street terrorist and never wore a turban
West is back at it, spit my tack at it
To get my point across, predicting who be the boss
Never take a loss because of the nina ross
Demand your respect, put hands to your chest
Boom blam, won't jam when I blam at your neck
Real talk, my spit hot saliva when it inject

[Hook]

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