No More Amigos

(Showkey)
K and Sha Sha they in Bexpark and they lurkin
On the opp block with that 1 pop
I get the drop drop and I'm burnin
See my guys they mash workin
and it's on top so we're jerkin
TT get the nines and them dot shots
and that boy Charmz we gon burn him, we gon hurt him
Little dead man and that's certain.
In those droptops we just park park,
then we bruck shot then we swervin
We got black blades and we blacked out,
in that black whip we skrtin, mash workin
Then it's back to the ends
Back to get work in
Them man could never come NP,
cause they know that man'll get bursted
MS ain't on this
I'm like fuck you and your amigos
Like in your ends you don't run shit
You see little Russ yeah he gun grip
Man get left dead with that pump ting
Make a man cut from that cut ting
When the tings worked out they're cuttin light
20 man on that block
M plot getting taped off
and that's a shutdown on that damn block
Boom bah the block blazed off
My niggas whip whip in that kitchen
In the trap they say take grub
L will play your line to get paid tough
Now he's breaking bricks cause it paid off
Niggas know that I'm Showkey
Yeah man has got links for a Ruger
Man try say fuck NP,
like I won't come round with a shooter
Like I won't wizz round on a scooter
and when I come round I'll boot ya
Man are spending profit on bitches
So I'll jerk man for that tooka.
Hands on 4's and it ain't even 20 past
Niggas need to know them 20's blast
You niggas ain't let none gon see me
Cut the ting right back on a semi, blast
Cah they ain't on nada
You can get a slaughter, no farda.
Make a nigga run, Mo Farah
Speed up, act, run mo faster
you niggas ain't been OT
My niggas distributing them Oz's
Smell the shit on these OG's
and I'm MG get to know please
On sight, you ain't banging on Smoky
I'm on the opp strip with no pokey
If I go Bexpark it ain't lonelies
You might see Tremzy or just Showkey
TT tryna cop a automatic,
allow it T shit'll get tragic
Cah you know mans gonna slap it
Wipe man down for the mud if he'll have it
Get man down for the chattin
Get the barrel blown,
in the mans chest when he clap it
And the ting blew his back in
And all of that happened cause fuckboys chattin
Bad B move ratchet
If she givin man blows for the O's she a hatterz
Belly get back to the matters
Scream B2K cause my niggas all savage
Most of my niggas them trappers
They just tryna make trapline jump like rabbit
And, A with the slappers,
get man down with the Rambzy or daggers
My niggas in the va-va vroom
Lurking round to whoosh man with the broom
My niggas crash when I slang that food
Cuz just do it then scoot
Hella loud buds in the room
Spark the joint then man boom
Make a man disappear like magic
Cah the fuckboy wanna get rude
Hands on deck
Act up then it's hands on Tec.
And the whole of your gang's all wet
Got a pack, got a pack like Jet
Opp boy fill him up with lead
Hand ting get you corn on ends
You get corn on the snitch to the feds
So them fuckboy der gon dead