Dope Songtext
von MBN Foota
Dope Songtext
(Stitch)
(Mm Huh)
(Skrt, yea)
Bitch I be dope slatt y′all niggas soft, sweet, marshmallows
Hot ass shells call them hoes jalapeños
I'm wavin′ my flag is on sight when I see em'
Man they so dumb let us walk around with heaters sadistic
Lil' bitch she like when I mistreat ha′
(And)
If her brother want smoke blow em′ down to his sneakers
Bitch I'm the shit what the fuck is a plea?
A-B-C then D Y can′t you see that yo' bitch want me
S-A-V-A-G-E blow right through his ribs
Leave nothin′ but debris
Bet I kill yo' bitch ass ain′t no goin' to sleep
And you know what they tote Willy' Smithy′ (Yea)
Say I′m on go like a Grand Marquis
Push up in that hoe then I shoot like Scott
Won't stop till he drop Nawf Dallas on top
Dish out my sim cause my phone got hot
Think that I′m dumb I won't fall for plots
Say the 556 got em′ right in the spot
Go hard behind Tray don't touch him better not
Pour up half a pint now his ass in detox
Niggas show they true colors, but fanned out like Peacocks
I know niggas be mad I know niggas be cops
Yea that boy a bitch run his ass out his socks (Uh huh)
You niggas be goofy for cuffin′ them thots (Yea bitch)
Beat up the pot then I'm out to the block
He say he slidin' but bitch you is not
Bitch wanna ride like a motherfuckin′ Jetski
I hit it once then I told her don′t text me
Bitch I hop in the Scat' who the fuck gon′ catch me?
Bitch I walk with a limp cause my pockets to heavy
Yea that .762 send his ass straight to heaven
And you mad bout' a bitch get the fuck out yo′ feelins'
I′m slangin' that iron on the block with them killers
Y'all niggas be pussy I′ll take y′all pistols
Big 4-5 shit sound like a missile
And that bitch a lil' freak blow my dick like a motherfuckin′ whistle
Damn that lil' nigga nasty he went home and kissed ha′
If you play with my top you get pressed bout the issue (Uh huh)
We don't fuck with no opps′ you get cropped out the picture
Yea that boy say he gang but he not official boy
That shit is lame stop postin yo' pistol
(No real shit please stop it)
That .762 got em' lit, yea all of my shooters we never gon′ miss
R Kelly we leavin′ em' pissed, yea we lit that boy up before he hit the fence
Y′all niggas dumb y'all don′t make no sense (Huh?)
Just like bread we toastin' shit
Yea FKS on top lil′ bitch I don't think y'all niggas know this shit
(Glee, fa, fa, fa)
(Mm Huh)
(Skrt, yea)
Bitch I be dope slatt y′all niggas soft, sweet, marshmallows
Hot ass shells call them hoes jalapeños
I'm wavin′ my flag is on sight when I see em'
Man they so dumb let us walk around with heaters sadistic
Lil' bitch she like when I mistreat ha′
(And)
If her brother want smoke blow em′ down to his sneakers
Bitch I'm the shit what the fuck is a plea?
A-B-C then D Y can′t you see that yo' bitch want me
S-A-V-A-G-E blow right through his ribs
Leave nothin′ but debris
Bet I kill yo' bitch ass ain′t no goin' to sleep
And you know what they tote Willy' Smithy′ (Yea)
Say I′m on go like a Grand Marquis
Push up in that hoe then I shoot like Scott
Won't stop till he drop Nawf Dallas on top
Dish out my sim cause my phone got hot
Think that I′m dumb I won't fall for plots
Say the 556 got em′ right in the spot
Go hard behind Tray don't touch him better not
Pour up half a pint now his ass in detox
Niggas show they true colors, but fanned out like Peacocks
I know niggas be mad I know niggas be cops
Yea that boy a bitch run his ass out his socks (Uh huh)
You niggas be goofy for cuffin′ them thots (Yea bitch)
Beat up the pot then I'm out to the block
He say he slidin' but bitch you is not
Bitch wanna ride like a motherfuckin′ Jetski
I hit it once then I told her don′t text me
Bitch I hop in the Scat' who the fuck gon′ catch me?
Bitch I walk with a limp cause my pockets to heavy
Yea that .762 send his ass straight to heaven
And you mad bout' a bitch get the fuck out yo′ feelins'
I′m slangin' that iron on the block with them killers
Y'all niggas be pussy I′ll take y′all pistols
Big 4-5 shit sound like a missile
And that bitch a lil' freak blow my dick like a motherfuckin′ whistle
Damn that lil' nigga nasty he went home and kissed ha′
If you play with my top you get pressed bout the issue (Uh huh)
We don't fuck with no opps′ you get cropped out the picture
Yea that boy say he gang but he not official boy
That shit is lame stop postin yo' pistol
(No real shit please stop it)
That .762 got em' lit, yea all of my shooters we never gon′ miss
R Kelly we leavin′ em' pissed, yea we lit that boy up before he hit the fence
Y′all niggas dumb y'all don′t make no sense (Huh?)
Just like bread we toastin' shit
Yea FKS on top lil′ bitch I don't think y'all niggas know this shit
(Glee, fa, fa, fa)
Writer(s): Damreya Wade Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
