I Ain’t No Joke

[Intro: Bez19]
Yeah
Yeah

[Verse 1: Bez19]
These niggas don't want smoke (No), I'm known to let the Glock blow
I remember jumpin' out, puttin' one in his throat (To the neck)
Lil' nigga twenty shots in a Moncler coat
Had to break the coke down, then I send me a ho (Send me a ho)
I remember pops shot before I got mine first
I remember handoffs comin' fresh out her purse (Fresh out her purse)
Pull it fresh out her skirt, either way, it's fresh check-ins
40 or not, either way, I got my weapon (Yeah)
Dumb ass nigga second guessin', you think I left it? (No)
Two on one with the 40, I'm real reckless (Yeah)
Tried to run in the spot, I let off so many shots (Bah)
Semiautomatic, double action, the good Glock
Yeah, we got on your boy, pulled up in ski masks
Got his bitch ass baby bro, he still laughin'
Say he wasn't in it, so that murder was tragic
Want smoke with the 9, lil' nigga, you see what happen

[Verse 2: Lil Yee]
So much smoke on the low, my nigga, it's like we tackin'
My AR named Dungeon, my Draco named Dragon
Like Peyton Manning, I'm done with giving passes
When we caught bro slippin', Cudy, you know we should've stamped him (Stamp)
Yeah, aight tho (Aight), let the pipe blow (Woo)
Make a fat nigga skinny like lipo' (Uh-huh)
Niggas talkin' 'round bitches just like hoes
Damn, Four Philly switched up, he with the five-o (Ayy, with the fifty ball)
Bro, your mans out shooting with his eyes closed (He is)
He ain't hit shit but windows and car doors (That's what he did)
Fuck where you from, lil' nigga, is your heart cold?
Up the scanner on a nigga, treat him like a barcode
In the trap, no more Xans, all the bars gone
We keep Wocky comin' and the Tech, all the Par gone
I was limpin' and pimpin' inside a warzone
We got mops when the floor dirty, up the score, bro

[Interlude: Bez19]
Yeah, nigga, free the real motherfuckin' 1-9, nigga, you know what the fuck goin' on, nigga
20-1-9, it's our time to shine, nigga
We still here, nigga, we ain't goin' nowhere

[Verse 3: Bez19]
Free the bitch, 'cause you don't check the bitch, you like to check her phone (What?)
I checked that 5K and left that bitch alone (Gone)
I'm 1-9, I don't care who she fuckin' on
All I do is pick up the phone and say I'm coming home
Free my lil' brother P, you know he comin' home (Yeah)
How you tell on your folks? These niggas dead wrong (Pussies)
In the strip club with the snow, I mean the zip
She guaranteed a couple thousand when he take a hit
Before I ever send myself, I gotta send a bitch
Free my young niggas, count a hundred bands off the biff
I shoot to score, spray a hundred rounds out this bitch
Shooter or killer, lil' nigga, know what the difference is
Shooter back in middle school, and we was only kids
Swear to God I caught him slippin', better thank the kids