← Kembali

🎵

Sewed Up

Q Da Fool

Album: 100 Keys Durasi: 2:38

Zaytoven

What's up Zay?

Uh, this how niggas live and shit

I just be tellin' what niggas be goin' through

I got a real low number on some pure weight

The feds out early so we movin' late

Thirty bands on the lawyer, I went through a case

And them Glocks, they paranoia, they go through your face

These niggas ran out on a foil, all they jewelry fake

And I wore it to counter, bitch you can't be late

When that .223 hit, got you amputated

These rappers fakin', man these niggas livin' in they imagination

If you a rat, must get exterminated

I'm strapped up like the Terminator

Bitch said she never fucked

Fuck her, you'll be burnin' later

Dirty bitches, I don't want 'em

I'm only worried 'bout the paper

Bitch see you later

Sip tips like you a waiter

Thirty bullet count, not one get wasted

We throwin' it up

We got all the gats and the guns

All this weight on my back, man it feel like a ton

I'm twenty years old with two sons

If you the gang, we gon' hunt

We done bought our son the run

Bullets eat him like he lunch

Shooters posted in the back and the front

Cook a lot of yola

Can't serve it if I do not know ya

Know the game sick, ebola

I'm workin' like a motor

Uh, sewed up

I got it sewed up

I make the chop blow up

I got the streets sewed up

I make the trap blow up

Heron blow your arms up

I just picked a bomb up

Might as well get you, need to get you one

Get you one and flip you one

Money come, decisions come

Should I spray him, should I kill him?

Man I'ma kill him

That nigga done

Put that bread on his head, that nigga done

I can finesse the panties off a nun

I might finesse a nigga just for nothin'

Street sewed up from the suburbs to the slums

Dig in her throat, watch the bitch hum

Law roll where I'm from

'Fore I leave the house, bitch I load the drum

You ain't tryna get no money, you a bum