R.I.P OMAR

[Chorus]
They gon' hit me till they mad
I'ma run up on all these cash
When my mama on jazz
I'ma probably feel like Nas
They gon' hit me till they mad
I'ma run up on all these cash
When my mama on jazz
I'ma probably feel like Nas
When my mama on jazz
I'ma probably feel like Nas
When my mama on jazz
I'ma probably feel like Nas
They gon' hit me till they mad
I'ma run up on all these cash
When my mama on jazz
I'ma probably feel like Nas
They gon' hit me till they mad
I'ma run up on all these cash
When my mama on jazz
I'ma probably feel like Nas

[Verse 1]
I'ma choose them bands
Run them in, In the slut for sing
Just for the rari
In the Benz, We ain't got no friends
Why you paper-takе?
I got shooters that dodge your face
Choppa inmatе your head
I just leave 4 victims
It's no witness, You can smell like swishes
Then you all like dishes
Got you out of the picture
Grandma, Pass the live book
When I'm done, I get up
Kimber too tuff to set up
Incase i gotta rest up
Hop up on the Benz Truck
I just win the Grizzley
They want beef, I'm ganged up
We can let they tape up
Got the burn and I lets that cookies
Niggas, Ain't get no pussy
I've been balling since the Rookie
I've been pushy, I'm that bully
Never try me cause' my tooly's (Never try me cause' my tooly's)
Have you been queen like you Uzi? (Have you been queen like you Uzi?)
I've been eating with the toosie's (I've been eating with the toosie's)
And I'll blame you like a smoothie

[Chorus]
They gon' hit me till they mad
I'ma run up on all these cash
When my mama on jazz
I'ma probably feel like Nas
They gon' hit me till they mad
I'ma run up on all these cash
When my mama on jazz
I'ma probably feel like Nas
When my mama on jazz
I'ma probably feel like Nas
When my mama on jazz
I'ma probably feel like Nas
They gon' hit me till they mad
I'ma run up on all these cash
When my mama on jazz
I'ma probably feel like Nas
They gon' hit me till they mad
I'ma run up on all these cash
When my mama on jazz
I'ma probably feel like Nas

[Verse 2]
Take yo cash, I'ma do the dash (Do the dash)
I got so much shooters you can do the math (Do the math)
All much she gon' cut her, Like we do the lance
Flippin' grounds, They don't understand
Gives you 6 like glance
100 bands, Can you toss like Yam?
But you know you around
Found no facts
That's how you can?
What, Your head just slamed
Thought you said you was about the life
All y'all niggas pussys like your fucking wifes
If you wanna try me, You gon' fucking die
I'ma have your shirt when I let you spill some wine
Kill on mine, Name it for your spine
You don't wanna lie
Choppa time, Bullets reads your mind
You can press for wine
You don't want no beef
I'ma have your body in the reef
Ring your bitch, She's messy kind to me
I can never fill the tea, She gon' suck me till I sleep

[Chorus]
They gon' hit me till they mad
I'ma run up on all these cash
When my mama on jazz
I'ma probably feel like Nas
They gon' hit me till they mad
I'ma run up on all these cash
When my mama on jazz
I'ma probably feel like Nas
When my mama on jazz
I'ma probably feel like Nas
When my mama on jazz
I'ma probably feel like Nas
They gon' hit me till they mad
I'ma run up on all these cash
When my mama on jazz
I'ma probably feel like Nas
They gon' hit me till they mad
I'ma run up on all these cash
When my mama on jazz
I'ma probably feel like Nas