Babyface Ray, Doe Boy - Massacre lyrics

Doe Beezy ahem
Yeah, Face, you already know what
The fuck goin' on, you know how we coming
Oh,  really? Buh, buh, buh,  buh, buh, buh
Buh, buh, buh, buh
Yeah,  let's go, let's go, uh, uh

Real niggas stand up (Go)
I be poppin' shit, I got my rubber bands up
(yeah, yeah, yeah)
Her bestie in the lobby, bitch
Go bring your friend up (Come here)
Before you drop a diss, bitch
Go dig your mans up (Fool)
I be really playin' with choppers
I ain't into playin' tough (Grrah)
I wish you could ask the
Last nigga that ran up (Grrah)
Fuck niggas fold, real niggas stand up
(Pussy) nigga, I ain't told, nigga
When I got jammed up (Facts)
​iPhone thuggin'
Let me see you blam somethin' (Woah)
Don't make me grab my burner phone
I'll send a hit on Samsung (Nah, for real)
Bet I make her panties drop
She see that fuckin' Lamb' come
(Uh, come here, baby)
Blue and yellow in my watch
Look like the fuckin' Rams or somethin'
(Oh, really?) i done fucked the same hoes as
Odell Beckham in my city (Nah, for real)
Come and flex it
Smith & Wessons fuckin' stretch
'em in my city (Baow, baow, baow, baow)
Nigga came here playin' crazy
So we left him in my city
Just dropped four bodies
Told Deshawn Watson, "Welcome to my city"
Got that blicky-blicky, up
The switchy, bitchy, i get busy
Look at my pockets, fat like Cartman, bitch
I'm probably who killed Kenny (No, for real)
Know he happy the police grabbed
Don't try to kill my nigga Jimmy
(Face, Face Mob) 'Cause if he had to meet
Young Johnny was blazin' his face
Up with a fifty (Face, Face Mob)

It's a Louis V, codeine sippin', money fetish
(yeah, yeah) it's a bad bitch, made her
Bring her friend, girl, we selfish
(Bad, phew) say they laid him
Cooked him in the mornin' like he breakfast
(He gone) go to the dealership, I want
The long Range, yeah, the Stephen
Steppin', shh, what's that noise? (Haha)
Niggas writin' checks they can't cash
They all void (Lame-ass nigga)
Catch me in your town
Pop a pound like I'm Roy (Face)
My daughter say she want Chanel purses
Fuck a toy (Oh)
Cutthroat out the soil, rest in
Peace to Keed, man, i can't believe
(Rest in peace)
Ironic 'cause I'm on my way to Cleveland
Goin' to fuck with Beezy (Doe Beezy)
Last night was geekin', said I love you
I ain't even mean it (What?)
What you know about them
Murders? Gotta be strategic (Shh)
Is you really in the field
Or watchin' from the bleachers? (Which one?)
When they see that money pile up
Niggas turn to leeches
Why the fuck did I need school?
I'm richer than the teachers (Why?)
I done lost track of time
Every day it's Easter
Cup pink, it's fresh as hell, ice go to bail
Money in that bitch, let her go
Wait to exhale
Federales moderate my 'Gram, too much YSL
(Hot, hot) he say he in the game, but what
Side? Do you buy or sell, nigga?