Notti 6 Feet Under

[Verse 1: Tata & Jenn Carter]
How you dissin'? Like three of yo' homies is dead
I send one of my niggas kill all of y'all niggas
I see a O then I see red
With this pencil, fill 'em up with lead
Bend through the o's I'm tryna catch 'em—
(24 is the GOAT)
How you smokin' my dead and I don't got no dead
They know I bop, Mr. Everything Dead
She wanna come over I left her on read
Niggas pussy
I'm a veteran, niggas is rookies
Big knocker, can't book me
Spin through the O's and I got them lookin'
Dee just be runnin' his mouth on the media
I run into DD, yeah, it's lit
Bitches be gettin' ahead of they self
I don't care if you hate me, suck my dick, glah
Let me start like this
Said you niggas is weird and your opps is your friends
How he call you a-, but ya ass still jack him?
He tried to diss, Ended up in the air, Like
I'ma set shit straight, said he 41K, he got sent to the gates
Straight to the top, not a debate
They like, ''Jenn you so lyrical, niggas is late'', like
We gon' tear that boy like I'm a surgeon
Shorty a baddie, she tell me, ''It's hurtin'''
And this music is more than just verses
I'm really on timin', I do it on purpose
Niggas talkin', but that shit is digital
Fuck with the opps and I can't be a friend of you
Niggas dirty and they not original
Feel like I'm Spike, when I'm shootin', I'm visual
Bullet's gon' make him invisible
Don't need to diss, but you fit the subliminal
Brodie a demon, a criminal
Sendin' out shots and this shit is not clinical

[Verse 2: Lil Worm & Kyle Richh]
I could never go beef wit' a rat (Like, what?)
Oh, you talkin' 'bout bro? You get clapped
Bitch, I'm a demon, I move wit' a TEC
Nigga Notti got killed, now his ass in a pack (Notti)
DD said, "Notti, throw, throw, throw" (What?)
How you walkin' without totin' pole?
He was talkin' on bro, bro, bro
Now his dumbass on scene, he got poked (Ah)
Like, bitch I ain't regular, nigga (Like, what?)
Finger itchin' to pull on the trigger (What? What?)
They be like, "Worm, you a different lil' nigga" (I'm a different—)
I could never get poked in my liver (Like)
If it's lit, I'ma slide (Slide)
Send a hit, then you know I'm outside (Like, what?)
Hop out, throwin' shots, don't die
You talkin' 'bout Naz, but yo' brother in the sky, like (Like)
They be thinkin' this shit is a game (Is a game)
Nigga died, now his brother got fame
Notti Boppin, punchin' my hips (Notti, like, what, like, what?)
Like, come here, gotta do it like this (Damn-damn-damn)
Don't—don't drop my shit (Notti), damn, he tried to dip but he tripped (Notti)
Beef ain't dead 'til he dead in my spliff (Notti), 'til he dead in my—(Notti)
Told bro, "Let's take a trip" (Like, what?), backdoor gang, tryna slime me a victim (Like, damn)
Not—Notti boppin, I'm punchin' my hips (Notti)
Like, come here gotta do it like this, like (Do it like this)
Bop, bop (Bop-bop-bop), he dead, roll it again (Like, damn)
Fuck OY, we smokin' they mans (OGzK)
Like, how they dissin'? They mans got tanned (Mans got tanned)

[Verse 3: Jerry West & FMB Savo]
I've been itchin' to pull out the sitch
AK a demon, I know he gon' blitz
Swear everything dead, watch him lift
Spin it again if the first hollows miss
And these niggas don't know what I do
Politicians, only there for the news
But a nigga got nothin' to lose
Set up ya mans, you got nothin' to prove
Look, if Jerry spot 'em, he gon run (What?)
Notti keep hittin', roll that nigga lung (Grrah-grrah)
KR always dumpin' 'til it's done
Dee on point, shooter number one (Grrah-grrah, boom, nigga)
When I click, brodie told me to chill
I will not stop 'til I reach me a mill'
Reload my gun when it's time for the drill (Grrah-grrah)
Then I aim your top for the kill (Grrah-grrah)
Poked in the chest, now that boy 6 feet
Brady the clip 'cause I shoot from the field
Reload my gun when it's time for the drill (Grrah-grrah-grrah)
Dotty a dummy, he died from a shot
Just know that I smoke him a lot
Keep a beam on the scope, never duck
Fuck that boy Dot, put himself out of luck (Grrah-grrah)
F-F-Fuck a Flexo, I'm turnin' shit up
Middleton blick on my hip, never run
I just dump 'til he dead on the floor
Reload my bullets with Christian Dior (Christian Dior)
When I shoot I don't use double hands
Free all my niggas that's stuck in the can (Free all my niggas)
Don't run, I got smoke in the air
Pass me the Notti, when I smoke him, I'm clear (Shh)
I'm a demon, not livin' in fear
That nigga got shot and got left in that chair (Grrah-grrah-grrah)
Shoot at four quarters, I'm makin' it square (What?)
Fuckin' his bitch and I don't really care (Grrah-grrah, what?)
Twenty-four shots when I'm lettin' it flare