OT8 Philly Flow

[Verse 1: ChrisBands]
Bro a crashout, he spin through bare face
CB on that court, let's play ball
Boy it's game day
New wave, I ain't tryna horse wit' it, it's pay day
Try to push up on me, nigga you gon' die the same day
Send him to the heaven gates, for all the shit he sayin'
Them niggas keep dyin', I guess they all have the same fate
G-lock on my body and a pokey for the melee
Bullets playin' tag wit' niggas since they wanna play games, like
Yo Stacks suit up, I'm tryna go patrol
That dead nigga don't hit no more
Don't pass me him, you rolled a float
They know we up
Like we could go band for band or pole for pole
Puttin' batteries in niggas backs like a remote control
Like word to bro, time to show these niggas that they touchable
Pause though, but we was on they block lookin' for couple Folks
Also we aim for heads, nigga we don't aim for toes or torso's
Was on they block like four deep wit' four poles
Fuck every opp, tell them niggas suck a hunnid fuckin' dicks
.40 on my waist, it do the job, I'm too in love wit' it
Chase him wit' the beam, how the fuck is you gon' run from this?
Bend through niggas blocks wit' new poles, I'm tryna up this bitch
Like niggas survivin' head taps? That's just dumb as shit
So I told bro to make sure that he dead, you gotta dump the clip
On that court we eight for eight, them niggas like one for six
They don't ever play they block
I guess they really love they crib

[Verse 2: EthoSuave]
Like, them niggas know what we be doin' to 'em
They players warmin' up the bench
When we gon' get to hoopin'?
On bro we real life had no V, we bent on feet and trooped it
We torchin' niggas for our block, they think we just do music, like
We don't talk 'bout all the trips we take
We go on that mission, it's complete, I feed my shooters steak
Posted in the 8 or you can catch me in the zoo wit' Apes
Yeah we ball for Ju, I blow the chop until it fuckin' break
Remember we don't play, we frontline for real, this not for fake
Niggas broke by choice, it's like a million ways to make this pap'
We stocked up on corn
I load the clip, this food gon' eat his face
Catch him out of bounds, we back him down and make him choose his fate

[Verse 3: Stacks BW]
Like
And we keep spinnin' tryna hit heads
.380 get to bussin', pencil clips we tryna send lead
They keep askin' why I tweak so much, I prolly gotta take meds
On that block without no G, remember, we comin' to hit dreads
Like, and we give hot shells like it's tacos
Better pray to Allah, when we comin' thru' we hittin' tops, so
Dreads be coverin' my eyes, I gotta move 'em when I flock though
Wonder why we call QB a quarterback? 'Cause he throw shots though
Glah nigga
[?] up, now I'm tight
Bro made 20k off Chev', if you want bready come get right
We tryna get up in his face, I don't think my .40 heard you right
And they keep askin' what happened to that boy, he got sent up like a kite
And my lil' bro's will get you right, you get stained if you ain't one of mines, you should've knew that twice
Sha shh, when he died, just know I smoked a blunt all night
And thye keep bookin' all the bro's when they ome home we livin' life nigga
Glah nigga