On They Azz

[Intro]
(Morley, you a fool for this one)
Everybody know that boy a fool
Yeah, yeah, yeah
These niggas broke as fuck, on my mama
Yeah, he still ridin' in a Honda
(King of the Court)

[Chorus]
Yeah, I'm in your hood with the G-ride, a sheet to cover the tag
Everybody gun came with a bag
On my mama, we comin' to smash
Yeah, we shoot up the birthday bash
Yeah, we servin' the opp folks grass
Put it in her throat, watchin' her gag
I get on this mic' and I get on they ass
Yeah, big bullets for the perpetrating
Opp pack, this is the dead fragrance
Yeah, run up, watch how I head take 'em
Yeah, stick pancake 'em
Fuck nigga, you not a real robber
Yeah, I'm buckin' on you, I'm a shot caller
Yeah, stick on a martyr
Yeah, he mad 'cause the fuck nigga falling

[Verse 1]
Yeah, why you bringin' her up? She calling
My closet, I done put them all in
Ice bust, faucet
Yeah, you gon' die if our paths keep crossing
Yeah, ransom gang, he a hostage
Have big bro runnin' this shit, he an ostrich
I might just shoot at that ho if she toxic
Walk in the club drunk, alcoholic
Yeah, you better not mention lil' shorty
I got the four-fizzy and the forty
Mental health shooter, I swear I'm retarded
He talkin' that fuck shit, we disregard it
Walked in here with my gun even though I'm tardy
Yeah, fill his ass up with that poison
Got shot in his head 'cause his ass was yawning
Ain't no sleepin' on a mission, you pointless
You can't walk behind me, I'm still kind of jointed
I watch for the backstabs, see 'em coming
Yeah, trap, yeah, it do numbers
Walk in the club hittin' with these pointers
If you reach for my chain, get hit with this thunder
Yeah, hit just like Ronda
We pulled out them blicks, that boy a track runner
Yeah, gave that boy the Forrest Gump-er

[Chorus]
Yeah, I'm in your hood with the G-ride, a sheet to cover the tag
Everybody gun came with a bag
On my mama, we comin' to smash
Yeah, we shoot up the birthday bash
Yeah, we servin' the opp folks grass
Put it in her throat, watchin' her gag
I get on this mic' and I get on they ass
Yeah, big bullets for the perpetrating
Opp pack, this is the dead fragrance
Yeah, run up, watch how I head take 'em
Yeah, stick pancake 'em
Fuck nigga, you not a real robber
Yeah, I'm buckin' on you, I'm a shot caller
Yeah, stick on a martyr
Yeah, he mad 'cause the fuck nigga falling

[Verse 2]
Fuck nigga know how we ride through
We ain't drivin', yeah, I swear we gon' walk through
Yeah, he got shot in his hood, soul food
Didn't I tell you that them spinners gon' eat you?
Yeah, yeah, chop him up, he tofu
Vegeta charm on my motherfuckin' watch blue
Yeah, back 'em back, chopper gon' disintegrate all the haters
We smokin' your folks in the booth, yeah, I swear I'm a ball player
Yeah, we drawin' down on the traitors
Got whacked for tryna be a saver
Yeah, walked in, had thirty-one flavors
Different kind of opp packs, we blaze 'em
My twin got so many years, it ain't faze him
I'ma put a knife to his skull like Jesus
Yeah, Slaughter Gang, that's the label
I had to stand on that block for the cable
I had to pay to shut up the neighbors
'Cause my trap was beatin' like Grady
I took his ho, he call her his lady
She tryna say I gave her a baby
You lyin', ho, show me some paper
You lyin', ho, show me some—

[Chorus]
Yeah, I'm in your hood with the G-ride, a sheet to cover the tag
Everybody gun came with a bag
On my mama, we comin' to smash
Yeah, we shoot up the birthday bash
Yeah, we servin' the opp folks grass
Put it in her throat, watchin' her gag
I get on this mic' and I get on they ass
Yeah, big bullets for the perpetrating
Opp pack, this is the dead fragrance
Yeah, run up, watch how I head take 'em
Yeah, stick pancake 'em
Fuck nigga, you not a real robber
Yeah, I'm buckin' on you, I'm a shot caller
Yeah, stick on a martyr
Yeah, he mad 'cause the fuck nigga falling