Midcity

It's Clipping, bitch

What do they need?

Powder, weed or adderall?

Let them in slow

Settle them in

Cali', and know when they step in the doors and seeing all the hoes

Cutting coke in the kitchen and cooking over the stove

Ain't wearing none of their clothes and it's closed and it go like that

Never wanna have to show the strap

But you got one

And it got drums that hold hundreds of bills

Old and crumpled

And real soldiers humbling

Huddling round their heaters

Competing for millimeters

Like "who cock the biggest?"

What you got significant

Locked and loaded, I'm patrolling peyote hallucinate

And the realest shit going on with the homies the only way to get over it

Is to get your weight up, and pray over all of the bodies

Of border walking killers is hiding beside the fact of the matter the gats will splatter at will

Every bunny in the jungle know it's kill or be killed

Come get it

It ain't no fun

If it ain't cocaine in the system buddy

But I ain't got none

To do it the way og's banging

Bitch wanna get sprayed to run

And getting away with it anyway

Anybody can get it

Get it?

Got it

God damn it

Can't believe today was a good day

When it seem like every other day is a hood day

Do you see the irony?

He don't know nothing about it

This murder ain't bout nothing but

Murdering snitches and burning bridges with all the bitches who used to swing on the dick like it's good for physical fitness

You fitting to, but no bullshitting

Well better start hitting switches in that

Low, low

Drop it until it about to hit the floor, floor

Can't nobody stop it when it go, go

Gadget on a ratchet like a hatchet

How she chop and screw the dick up licking after all the wood

The been blowed good

And blowed up

Get thowed and running up in the guts and busting

Come get it

Woop, woop

That's the sound of the end of the party.

Chew up the molly

Quick, pick up all the guns and get rowdy

Better be the best if they trying to be the definition of every of hood motherfuckers contorted vision

They snorting the game

Sporting the flyest of fashion passionately

Wanna get some action, the bed

Make sure the camera can see

The fuck wanna enter in a war with a veteran?

Who got a score to settle with motherfuckers for medelling?

You think about the kettle, the pot has been plotting blowing until blue

And they face crews

Wanna be true

Claiming that you

Pocket or not

Back it up drop

All that you got

Into the bag

Made a tax right off

Take it right off that ass

Now flip it

Dip it

Brake it

The foot on the gas

Go ahead and clip it

Pop it, shake it

And make it go fast

The days of painting for fascination a thing of the past

Well, get your paper or partner

You talking cash, they talking fast

Come get it