Iayze - Cracked (I’m Him 2) lyrics
[Iayze - Cracked I’m Him 2 lyrics]
Ayy, real Murda Worth shit
I'm talkin' 'bout, we
Leave his car on flats, he crashed
It's on flats (get on his ass) , go, go
That's on fast, we be in a car, on flats
(Bitch, bitch) ayy, bitch, aye, go
Real Murda Worth shit, i'm talkin' 'bout
My racks came in fast
You say I'm a opp, better get on my ass
You ain't gon' shoot, that's facts
If we see that whip
We gon' leave him on flats
Glock on my hip, hit 'em up like tats
If he want a verse, then he gotta get taxed
I don't hear shit, I can only hear the racks
50 round drum
Gave that lil' nigga heart attack
He from the 'burbs
That lil' nigga ain't on that
Lil Dee catch him
And smoke his lil' dumbass
Jay got a switch
He won't play with yo' dumbass
My shooter berserk, tryna lurk, who
Done hit my phone?, i feel likе lurch
I am the one who's gonna shoot
I did that work
Pull up, and hop out the coupе
And shot him first
They six deep, shot the biggest one last
I'm finna ball out, bitch, like Steve Nash
Kicked out of school 'cause I
Smelled like weed in class
762 hit his car and it made him crash
Yo' bitch on dick and it got her cracked
I only be in the stu' droppin' hit's
They treat this shit like Crack
Play in this bitch
Then yo' lil' dumbass gettin' hit
Cut his head off
Throw that shit in the trash
My racks came in fast
You say I'm a opp, better get on my ass
You ain't gon' shoot, that's facts
If we see that whip
We gon' leave him on flats
Glock on my hip, hit 'em up like tats
If he want a verse, then he gotta get taxed
I don't hear shit, I can only hear the racks
50 round drum
Gave that lil' nigga heart attack
Ain't on that (Bitch)
Smoke his lil' dumbass
Won't play with yo' dumbass
Hit my phone, I feel like lurch, bitch
That work bitch
I'm talkin' 'bout, we
Leave his car on flats, he crashed
It's on flats (get on his ass) , go, go
That's on fast, we be in a car, on flats
(Bitch, bitch) ayy, bitch, aye, go
Real Murda Worth shit, i'm talkin' 'bout
My racks came in fast
You say I'm a opp, better get on my ass
You ain't gon' shoot, that's facts
If we see that whip
We gon' leave him on flats
Glock on my hip, hit 'em up like tats
If he want a verse, then he gotta get taxed
I don't hear shit, I can only hear the racks
50 round drum
Gave that lil' nigga heart attack
He from the 'burbs
That lil' nigga ain't on that
Lil Dee catch him
And smoke his lil' dumbass
Jay got a switch
He won't play with yo' dumbass
My shooter berserk, tryna lurk, who
Done hit my phone?, i feel likе lurch
I am the one who's gonna shoot
I did that work
Pull up, and hop out the coupе
And shot him first
They six deep, shot the biggest one last
I'm finna ball out, bitch, like Steve Nash
Kicked out of school 'cause I
Smelled like weed in class
762 hit his car and it made him crash
Yo' bitch on dick and it got her cracked
I only be in the stu' droppin' hit's
They treat this shit like Crack
Play in this bitch
Then yo' lil' dumbass gettin' hit
Cut his head off
Throw that shit in the trash
My racks came in fast
You say I'm a opp, better get on my ass
You ain't gon' shoot, that's facts
If we see that whip
We gon' leave him on flats
Glock on my hip, hit 'em up like tats
If he want a verse, then he gotta get taxed
I don't hear shit, I can only hear the racks
50 round drum
Gave that lil' nigga heart attack
Ain't on that (Bitch)
Smoke his lil' dumbass
Won't play with yo' dumbass
Hit my phone, I feel like lurch, bitch
That work bitch