C’MERE

[Intro: SKYTE & VOODOOCHILDD]
Gang
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Gang, gang, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah)

[Verse 1: SKYTE]
They like, “how they get so rich?”
Bet them niggas mad (Ew!)
I throw racks up on his bitch while I slap her ass (Slap her ass!)
On my gang I cannot switch Ian no fucking rat (Yeah, yeah)
We taking all yo' shit, you ain’t getting nothing back
(Like come here, try to get it)
Come here, come here
Don’t try to run, man, I swear we gon' get you
Step up to me wtf are you mental?
Catch that boy, fill him with lead, pencil
Paint the room using a red, stencil
We finna catch you lacking, nigga
Better be ready my semi packing, nigga
Beat that boy ass, yeah, what happened, nigga?
I gotta bag cause I’m steady trapping, nigga
Not with the movie or funny acting, nigga
I do not share the bag I don’t ration, nigga
You got me fucked up thinking I care
I bust a nut in a white bitches hair
He sent the addy, I’m already there
When I walk in, all they do is just stare
(Like, the fuck are you looking at, nigga? Get on)

[Verse 2: VOODOOCHILDD]
No, you're not looking at me, no
I put your bro on a Tee, hoe
You wanna be seen, your life getting stole
Step on his teeth, and his face, and his skull
I eat up the beat lil' bitch till I’m full
I smoke real gas you can’t pull
If you come to me, you're getting fucked up
I smoke weed, my bro sipping lean, he can’t kick the cup
I cannot name a hoe I trust
The way my name be in they mouth
I swear to God these niggas sus
It’s just me lil' bitch not us
And we leaving all the competition in the dust

[Verse 3: SKYTE]
Competition it’s not scaring me
My clique got too much vanity
I’m one with insanity
Your broke ass shop at family tree
Nigga go ahead take those words back
Before I put real shooters on your porch
My niggas lit, this ain’t no torch
Better back up 'fore a nigga get scorched
Eat the beat up, no, I don’t need a fork
Your bitch came over, she slid in them shorts
Step back, I'm MVP of the court, wet that
Make 'em dead meat, like pork
Way that your wifey keep tryna slide on me
I would think she was filing divorce
You could never match my stats, never meet my high
Cause you lame boy you a dork, bitch