187

[Verse 1: T.R.I.P.]
Fuck yo' feelings, homie
I give a fuck about opinions or your story, brodie
I’ll fuck yo' bitch and burn her soul inside the purgatory
You think I give a fuck of what you bitches think about me?
Bitch, fuck your judgements 'cause, I'm spitting on your fucking grave
Y’all should know the fuckin' name it’s UNAVERAGE GANG
We blowing up like a mothafuckin' hand grenade
Young T.R.I.P. the grave digger out of fuckin' Vegas
Two legends in the making
If I murder mothafuckas then it’s going to be a goodnight
Leave a mothafuckin' dead with a steel knife
Running and gripping my 9 'til they all die
Real eyes realize that you all lie
I been a savage since 7
UAV be the one that is ending your session
No second guessing
This that mothafuckin' gang land affiliation

[Chorus]
187, 187, 187, 187

[Verse 2: VAGUE]
You burn within, 'cause I bring the sin
I open doors just to let it in
You won’t find, what you can’t find
And you bitches hide with them flawed minds
This shit a joke with a little bit hate and a little bit of hope
This the life I chose, I accelerate on the roads I know
I lived enough that I lashed out on what the fuck was passed out
This fuckin' is game is trash now
And filled up with these cash clowns
UNAVERAGE always holds down, and fix with what we wrote down
Your feelings don’t mean shit now, we on the top and won’t drown
All the haters wanna do is talk shit, and dick ride, never wanna accomplish shit
No drive, where the fuck is all grave-diggers
Bet you mothafuckas gonna flee the scene when I pull the trigger
Never gonna stop me now
Better think when you talkin' down
Stand yo' ground
It’s that UAV gang shit and we lock it down
Yuh

[Chorus]
187, 187, 187, 187
187, 187, 187, 187