B-Lovee - Shottas lyrics
[B-Lovee - Shottas lyrics]
Grrah, look
Where I'm from, it really get gritty
Grrah-grrah
Bitch, where I'm from, it really get gritty
She don't know me, she poppin' her tittie
It get mixy, I'm flocking the stitchy
Don't try to plot
'cause them shottas be with' me
They gon' empty, it get risky
Bullets hit him, he drop like he tipsy
Too Tact, in the back of the renty
30 and better, so we clappin' plenty
Run it up, I do that on the regular
Nigga broke, need to go get his cheddar up
Keep Baretta tucked, ain't no lettin' up
I keep MAC on me, that shit regular
Who you settin' up, ain't 150, but bro
Tryna wet 'em up
I can't lack for a thot, I be lettin' up
I can't do that
Nigga ducked when I aimed at his durag
And that by had his pole
But ain't 'oot back
Like who do that
I be smokin' on Lotti, can't move fast
Put a switch on a Glock so it shoot fast
Let 'em run, hit 'em good off a perc
Left 'em numb
Made 'em run
Ain't no front when I'm uppin' the gun
He got hit, tryna put on a front
He a actress, if he throw up that shit
We gon' clap him
I hate goofies, I'm tryna subtract 'em
If he ratted, why niggas still jack him?
Niggas slackin' but I'm not, bullets hot
Make 'em stop
He can't stand up
His bitch all on my dick 'cause my bands up
Caught 'em lackin' outside so I ran up
Tell 'em, "Man up", that's that fan love
Why he saying my name, I'on know homie
I can't wait till we meet, I'ma show homie
Man, I live what I rap, I'ma blow dolie
And I'm real bold, I stood on that block
It was real cold
Block hot, I was tuckin' the steel though
I spot a opp, show 'em how it feel though
B-Bitch, where I'm from
It really get gritty
She don't know me, she poppin' her tittie
It get mixy, I'm flocking the stitchy
Don't try to plot
'cause them shottas be with' me
They gon' empty, it get risky
Bullets hit him, he drop like he tipsy
Too Tact, in the back of the renty
30 and better, so we clappin' plenty
30 and better, so we clappin' more
He talk hot, bullets smackin' his Jaw
Spot a Y, get to packin' them all
If 10 in the clip, then I'm clappin' it all
That's on bro, I can't show no remorse
I'ma stand over him if he fall, tryna run
Lil thot, with' it all, tryna rump
I ain't goin' no where if
I don't got the gun
Face you a bitch
You was Coppin' a plea in a jail
I'on know you
So stop saying my name for some fans
You like 30, I tote 30
It's like 30 bands up in my pants
Why the fuck would I worry, get to
Shootin' and shit, if they rush me
I'm sturdy
Bro, he be geekin' and shit
He might pop 'em a 30
He gon' slide on the opps with' no mercy
I swear I be geekin' and shit, I got PTSD
Gotta sleep with' the grip
Catch a drop on the lo
I'ma squeeze on a bitch
Ain't no droppin' my pole
I'ma leave with' this shit
Since a jit, bitch, I really been active
He got hit, 'cause he really be lackin'
Move wocky, and I'm gettin' to packin'
3 chops when we stuck up on traffic
Bitch, where I'm from, it really get gritty
She don't know me, she poppin' her tittie
It get mixy, I'm flocking the stitchy
Don't try to plot
'cause them shottas be with' me
They gon' empty, it get risky
Bullets hit him, he drop like he tipsy
Too Tact, in the back of the renty
30 and better, so we clappin' plenty
Where I'm from, it really get gritty
Grrah-grrah
Bitch, where I'm from, it really get gritty
She don't know me, she poppin' her tittie
It get mixy, I'm flocking the stitchy
Don't try to plot
'cause them shottas be with' me
They gon' empty, it get risky
Bullets hit him, he drop like he tipsy
Too Tact, in the back of the renty
30 and better, so we clappin' plenty
Run it up, I do that on the regular
Nigga broke, need to go get his cheddar up
Keep Baretta tucked, ain't no lettin' up
I keep MAC on me, that shit regular
Who you settin' up, ain't 150, but bro
Tryna wet 'em up
I can't lack for a thot, I be lettin' up
I can't do that
Nigga ducked when I aimed at his durag
And that by had his pole
But ain't 'oot back
Like who do that
I be smokin' on Lotti, can't move fast
Put a switch on a Glock so it shoot fast
Let 'em run, hit 'em good off a perc
Left 'em numb
Made 'em run
Ain't no front when I'm uppin' the gun
He got hit, tryna put on a front
He a actress, if he throw up that shit
We gon' clap him
I hate goofies, I'm tryna subtract 'em
If he ratted, why niggas still jack him?
Niggas slackin' but I'm not, bullets hot
Make 'em stop
He can't stand up
His bitch all on my dick 'cause my bands up
Caught 'em lackin' outside so I ran up
Tell 'em, "Man up", that's that fan love
Why he saying my name, I'on know homie
I can't wait till we meet, I'ma show homie
Man, I live what I rap, I'ma blow dolie
And I'm real bold, I stood on that block
It was real cold
Block hot, I was tuckin' the steel though
I spot a opp, show 'em how it feel though
B-Bitch, where I'm from
It really get gritty
She don't know me, she poppin' her tittie
It get mixy, I'm flocking the stitchy
Don't try to plot
'cause them shottas be with' me
They gon' empty, it get risky
Bullets hit him, he drop like he tipsy
Too Tact, in the back of the renty
30 and better, so we clappin' plenty
30 and better, so we clappin' more
He talk hot, bullets smackin' his Jaw
Spot a Y, get to packin' them all
If 10 in the clip, then I'm clappin' it all
That's on bro, I can't show no remorse
I'ma stand over him if he fall, tryna run
Lil thot, with' it all, tryna rump
I ain't goin' no where if
I don't got the gun
Face you a bitch
You was Coppin' a plea in a jail
I'on know you
So stop saying my name for some fans
You like 30, I tote 30
It's like 30 bands up in my pants
Why the fuck would I worry, get to
Shootin' and shit, if they rush me
I'm sturdy
Bro, he be geekin' and shit
He might pop 'em a 30
He gon' slide on the opps with' no mercy
I swear I be geekin' and shit, I got PTSD
Gotta sleep with' the grip
Catch a drop on the lo
I'ma squeeze on a bitch
Ain't no droppin' my pole
I'ma leave with' this shit
Since a jit, bitch, I really been active
He got hit, 'cause he really be lackin'
Move wocky, and I'm gettin' to packin'
3 chops when we stuck up on traffic
Bitch, where I'm from, it really get gritty
She don't know me, she poppin' her tittie
It get mixy, I'm flocking the stitchy
Don't try to plot
'cause them shottas be with' me
They gon' empty, it get risky
Bullets hit him, he drop like he tipsy
Too Tact, in the back of the renty
30 and better, so we clappin' plenty