Hit bout it

[Verse 1]
We sum real ass niggas u can’t fuck with us
2 bitches jumpin’ on my dick, jus like it’s double dutch
Good gas [?] roll a wood, and roll a dutch
Put thirty in my Glock it’s time to shoot that bitch gon come in clutch
Montage, John wick the gang they stepp in’ right or wrong
Freak bitch grippin’ on my dick jus’ like a microphone
Hollerin’ ain’t gon’ get you shit, lil bitch go pick a better tone
Came through in this rap game with timbs’ to make my steppin’ stones
She ain’t in the making flex, I still pull out my iPhone
Ha friend wanna come too, I told that bitch to pile on
Rest in Peace to Pop , in this hoe M i’m getting my growl on
Off a perc’ i’m rollin’ i keep hearing i’m only how long
Bad bitch kinda cute and think she look like NuNu
Balenciaga stеppin’ came a way from wearin’ Fubu
You not from the 205 so I had to takе LuLu
I’ll tell Adam my damn self i never knew you
Montage, independent so i make my own cake
Dress myself, a lot of drippin’ I can build my own lake
No Old hoes rock Vlone, Out the state so I can’t be drake
Hardest young nigga in this rap shit it ain no debate
Pushin’ up with gang move wrong yo shit get pushed back
Red my favorite color, but i still be having blue stacks
Feel like Yatchy, ‘cus i’m with two bitches and i’m too smacked
‘Lot of gas, bro don’t wanna smoke he jus’ want contact
From the state from where u either hate or u get hated on
OG at the show throwin’ G he got his gators on
In LA with vibes at the show i got a laker home
She can ride my dick but then a Uber gotta take ‘er home
Petty mothafucka, i’ll neva love a hoe again
Up the score like twenty mo’ we spin jus like ceiling fan
Will was out in hours, tell lil dude go dig his fuckin’ mans
Sit where? In jail? Never, whole gang got plenty bands
I’m workin’ he workin’ we workin’ we feel like ReRe
Pop perkies, pop thritys, big jerky she finna eat me
Put a beam on his feet look like twinkle toes
Put a beam on his feet look like twinkle toes
Life is good, in the present got money, and plenty hoes
If it wasn’t for coronavirus, then i’ll be havin’ plenty shows
Hoes in the front row… We having titty shows
You totin’ a AR for no reason brother take [?]
Real pot head, I be tryna smoke up all the [?]
Brother sheisty, ass a bitch he keep on screaming blrrd I just told Mariah pass the Glock i’m tryna carry hers
My bitch ain’t got no opps, she did i’m tryna bury hers
Catch a opp in traffic, and i’m shootin’ jus like i’m Larry Bird
[Chorus]
Youn’ like it we can hit ‘bout it
Shoot ‘bout it
Whatever, get you and yo mans two bodies
Feelin’ like Yak and Yatchy, don’t like it we can hit bout it
Blunt look like jackie robinson, I won't pass it to nobody
Gav got a pocket rocket, and he shootin’ at anybody
Pass the hoe John Stockton my bro dunkin’ on anybody
Beat a opp John Cena we flee off in a fuckin’ rari
I’m having money backs you’ll think a nigga fuck with ari