Politics

[Intro]
Yeah (Ooh, Austin)
Boy
Still inside them— with them—
Another rap nigga hatin' on the gang, we finna rob him (We finna rob him)
Boy

[Verse]
Still inside them trenches with them rockets (Come on)
Another rap nigga hatin' on us, we probably robbed him (We probably robbed him)
Or probably finna rob him
You come around and these niggas start sweatin' like it's a sauna (Ooh)
Any nigga who be hopin' the opps pop
On my mama, I pray to God that you and all them niggas die
Bankroll fresh, I'll probably go out swingin' on my chop
It's all there, you pull up on me, we got a hundred of them shots, nigga
Why would I hang around some cornballs? (Boy)
I could post how I'm just livin', niggas'd think that I was showin' off
I'm out of town by my damn self, it's still goin' down
Been postin' on the block thuggin', I thought that y'all was tired of mines
Every time the sun come out, we bring them guns out (We bring them guns out)
All I gotta do is point, them boys gon' bring 'em out (Baow, baow)
Free the guys, they gon' be sick when they hear Josh out (When they hear Josh out)
I'm ridin' 'round with my uncle Moe, and you know he'll hop out (You know he'll hop out)
And start blowin' blicky (And start blowin' blicky)
I catch you fuckin' with the opps, you might as well just diss me
He tried to run, them boys hopped out and his back like Ricky (Yeah)
I got a bitch who be with y'all, I know she lowkey miss me (I know she lowkey miss me)
We still on the block, choppers and them Glocks (Yeah)
Police keep ridin' by, you know the spot so hot (Yeah, the spot so hot)
We the mob, you go against us, then you gotta die (Yeah, you gotta die)
Every nigga who go against the grain gon' get the lullaby (Gon' get a lullaby)
You piss me off, I snap my fingers, it be bedtime (And it be bedtime)
Free my brother Jmoe out them jails, they gave him fed time (They gave him fed time)
This bitch used to try to hoe me, she give me head now (She give me head now)
I used to be like, "Free my nigga Boogs", I say red now (Free my nigga)
Them guns start goin' off, it's gon' be hard to miss you (It's gon' be hard to miss you)
When me and the gang get on tip, we ain't even gotta diss you (We ain't even gotta diss you)
We gon' pull up on you, baow, let them bitches hit you (Let them bitches hit you)
We got full magazines, boy, come get your issue (Come get your issue)
It ain't shit to drop a bag and get some guns (Boy)
We don't even gotta get mad, my dog'll kill your ass for fun
But Von said he bounced out, blicked his ass out, know why he run
I'm ridin' around with real dog, he bounce out, leave your ass in blood, nigga
Yeah
Now I see why niggas hate us, we the Westside terrorists (We the Westside terrorists)
We ain't scared to tell a nigga how we really feelin' (How we really feelin')
We ain't scared to tell no nigga we gon' really him (Baow)