[Intro]
(Lil' Fox, why you so godly, cuz?)
(Damn, Drako, you made this?)
Uh, uh, let's do it
Fuck all that talkin', let's do it
Uh, let's do it
Fuck all that talkin', let's do it, my niggas crashin' out
[Verse]
Fuck all that talkin', let's do it, all my niggas crashin' out
Fuck all that talkin', let's do it, we got a lo', we waitin' out it
I got a lick on the East Side, he got bricks under his couches
I got a Micro, the drizzy, ARP get shit rerouted
All day, I smoke on a opp pack, that shit got my body drowsy
I fucked ten hoes in LA in one night, I need a Addy
I'm bap, I don't even pop pills, I'll take a honey before a Perky
Grouchy say, "Chuckyy, don't hurt 'em," Big Opp on the E-way swervin'
We dump shit down on the backstreet, man down, ain't no witness murder
Chiraq, every day, we purgin', replay some gunshots for chripin'
Spinned his shit four different times, we caught him, now we gon' spin the service
That's how we get it on, we stand on business, that's for certain
We left shit right there where curbs at, for that bread, bronem'll burglar
Dracy flip shit just like burgers, glitchy, he no longer livin'
We still post up in them trenches, striker whip, foenem gon' bip it
I can't roll up no Backwood, I roll up Bambú, let's get it
I ain't sip no drank in a minute, link with foenem, now I'm sippin'
I do one-fifty on E-ways, don't slow down, Big Opp my witness
Don't how niggas be gangsters, gettin' caught up, they turn to chicken
Heard folks got beat up in prison, foenem run the whole division
Free ****, they got folks sittin', ain't seen my twin in a minute
I'm on a race to a million, plain jane with a blue face in it
I ain't get shit for my birthday, she can't ask me for a dinner
Sunday, we was outside spinnin', Monday, we was out spinnin'
Tuesday, we was out hittin' licks, but foenem spot one, then we spinned 'em
We don't play for the Yankees, 40, he the homerun hitter
I hit one time, then I tap out, she want more dick in her system
I want more commas and blickes, in the 'Raq, my whip be BP
But you know that ain't 'bout nothin', step outside, still got my gun up
Chuckyy still tweak, know it's one up, niggas Mickey, took the fun out
I got hoes wrapped out like lunch line, she was a virgin, she a slut now
I'm not no regular nigga, I don't want no fuckin' bust down
I got diamonds I didn't pop out, money can't fit in shoebox now
I still don't got no license, I got four things out the lot now
I spot a O-P-P, he won't hear shit else but this Glock sound
[Outro]
Uh, but this Glock sound
Uh, shoebox now
Uh, uh, uh, but this Glock sound
Uh, BP
Uh, go
Uh, uh, Bathh
F Talkin was written by Chuckyy & Foxwhyyousogodly & DrakoMade & Bugg (Producer).
F Talkin was produced by Foxwhyyousogodly & DrakoMade & Bugg (Producer).