Chevy Woods - Detroit lyrics

Yeah don't hit my phone with all that
You know what I mean
Niggas be tapped in and shit
You the motherfucker police nigga
Fuck the phone
Big Woods Season, big Taylor Gang shit
Big Pittsburgh

Aye five hundred degrees got my
Shirt off in the kitchen
You gon' have to move your family if
You tell 'em what you witnessed
I've been out here catching plays
I've had this shit on for three days
Pull up and don't say shit on the phone
Just hit the e-way
(hello)
Used to have them junkies in the
Line I feel like Webay
The block hot like Miami, gotta keep it heat
D Wade
Gotta little bitch that like bitches
She a bitch though
Thought he was a gangsta till he
Gave him all that info
He gon' fuck the twelve for the cheese
Aaron Rogers
I got angels watching over me in LA
Tryna Dodger
If she ain't bossing up
Gotta cut her out the picture
They threw him a party
He was tipsy off the liquor
Hit her one time
Got her acting like she know me
Seen that black and white, he a agent
He a Cody
Leave your phone at home
Then go do it out a stoley
And there ain't no popping bottles in
The club if you owe me
(let's get it)
Twenty-twenty vision let me see just
What it look like
He got rocked to sleep by some pussy
That's a good night
(yeah)
Keep them ones coming
Show me that you worth something
If he told, we ain't family
Put that on my first cousin
(for real)
I ain't nobody else, bitch I'm me
That's the post
That's the mother fucking caption
Hate a bitch that do the most
I ain't beefing 'bout no pussy
If it's money then it's different
He gon' pull up with that drumstick
You get fried like a chicken
Hope she bust it open like she
Do that shit on IG
Told her suck it till it's at attention
That's a "at-ease"
Outside with the guys serving junkies
By the street lights
Made this in a day
Just imagine what a week like
I can't be the weak type (nah)
She all in my DMs
Hope you know your bitch a freak-type
Big Bear trip, frozen diamonds
She the ski-type
(woooo aye let's get it yeah)
How come everytime they talk about
Me you come tell me
See that's why I be solo with
The curry not a addy
Gotta get the extras out the kitchen
Scrape the sides
I ain't never seen that nigga round my way
He a lie
Fuck the Alphabet Boys
Bitch you know it's Free The Guys
I know he don't like that shit
He a Rico dropping dimes
Shout out uncle Trick, shoutout Jackson
Them my babies
Speed limit say 65, I was doing 80
Gotta get 'em home
That's the only way we eat
Every street nigga ain't no rapper
Every rap nigga ain't street
Every trap nigga ain't me
Gang bitch or d-i-e
She be texting "see me please"
I'm just tryna catch the sleaze
(haha yeah Big Woods woooo)