Dog $hit Militia - Dog $hit Militia Cypher #1 lyrics

[Dog $hit Militia - Dog $hit Militia Cypher #1 lyrics]

Helluva made this beat, baby whew

On an opp hunt
Ridin' 'round with them hell raisers
Twenty shotguns
I'm slidin' 'round with twelve gauges
Za' connoisseur
Bust it open and I smell flavor
He spend it when he get it
I can tell he never felt paper

My young niggas out they top
They be out here wild
I be thinkin' bout the opps
Like when is they gon' slide?
Give that boy a face shot
That nigga almost died
Pour a six, pop a Perc'-10
That make me comе alive
You let your bitch set thе play
Then she dyin' with you


Two-three set this money on the floor
I'm like I'm slidin' with you
Only ARP's in this whip
It ain't no 9 pistols
He actin' hard 'cause he got that gun
He like Brian Nichols

Might hit LA broke as fuck
Leave with nine giffy's
My nigga Tron iced up, look like
Bitch I'm only pourin' Wock' or Tris
You be dyin' sippin'
Niggas really broke as fuck
Why I don't mind niggas
Bang on all on a nigga block
They think LeBron did it
Your bitch tryna take my Ksubi's off
'cause Travis Scott did it
Me, I'm pourin' up purple syrup
You be pine sippin'
First it was Balmain, now it's Number
(N) ine denim

You ain't talkin' 'bout no pape'
I can't pay attention
Gotta thank my brother 'cause the coin
Damn near made a nigga
Fit wet, think I'm sweet? I'll face a nigga
These Margiela's on my feet just
To paint a picutre
We be ballin' in the summer
Grindin' in the winter
They make these on your neck?
That shit look like glitter
Exotic ass Runtz in the 'Wood
And you rollin' Swishers
This bitch kinda irritatin'
Finna hit her sister

Knockin' like the police
We gon' stick all on the pizza man
I'll pull up with that chop and
Chop you like I'm Jackie Chan
Lil' bitch got that WAP
It's like her pussy should've came with sand
Dropped a hundred on his block and
It was only me and Stan
I'll never need a bitch 'cause I'm
The one these bitches need
Up early tryna cop the newest drop of Supreme
Bitch is like, "I know you
Fuckin' hoes, " I'm like, "What you mean?"
Damn, I kinda feel like Luigi
Always got some green

Twenty-pointers in the buffs, bitch
My view icy
Balaclavas back-to back-to back, bitch
We too shiesty
Know that shit designed by Virgil
If I do Nike and baby, I get money
I don't give a fuck 'bout who like me
Wardrobe full of foreign shit
Everything designer
Everybody with me Glocked up
I don't hang with fighters
Jack his ass with iron
I ain't changin' tires
Purple, yellow, and some red shit
Unc' the drink supplier

When I hit the road
I pray to God that I make it back
All that gossip and that fake shit
We ain't into that caught him in the field
We finna blitz and take his sack
Hit him in his head and take his
Life 'cause all he do is cap
Call my hitters up, then go
They ain't tired of steppin'
Put a switch up on the Beretta, boy
This a lethal weapon get close to this chop
You gon' get to shell-catchin'
Slidin' on this block, you gon' die
That's a failed lesson

201, 101, this a Z01
In the slums iced out, shit
Can't forget my gun
In the spaceship pushin' buttons, she like
"Where you from?"
Money stacked to the ceilin'
This shit finna weigh a ton
Black Hellkitty-kat, now I'm outta luck
Darkest room, diamonds dancin'
VVS's light 'em up
Matchin' Dior shoes with the belt
This designer love
Flash on the Glock froze him up
This the light of love

Smokin' Gary Payton
Hit his bitch with a glove on
I just poured a four two times
And got my dub on
Glock 23, Michael Jordan, got my shrug on
Finna let the chop sing
But it ain't a love song
Saw a opp and hit the
Big shot like I'm Chauncey ben Frank's
All my friends dead like a zombie
Money on the floor, I'm on time like Ashanti
Fourth ShittyBoy, I'm MIA, they tryna find me

Dog Shit Militia walk in
It's a motion picture i got rich friends
I'm allergic to these broke niggas
Hurry up and pass me the 'Wood
I'm finna smoke this nigga
FIshtailin' in the Hellcat
Almost broke the engine
And I'm still posted in the
Hood like a transmission
Get off your ass and stop
Doing all that damn bitching work so fire
Almost burnt down the damn kitchen
All this damn money in the
Room got my hands itching

A hundred people lined up at the spot
Look like a Chick-Fil-A
Me and gangy dropped a three of Quagy
Sip a script a day
Skating in the Kitty, cut the traction
Hit the figure eight (Skrrt)
Two hundred giffies on me
Flyin' up the interstate (Ooh-wee)
Smokin' opps out the 'bow, I'm like
"Fuck a QP" shit, fire 'em up
Light 'em up, I'm sick he Reggie
I ain't high enough
Said you fuckin' with us, let me guess
You seen a flyin' bus?
Smokin' on the whitest Runtz
In the whitest buffs
Trippin' over bitches in them biscuit's?
Need to tie 'em up

ShittyBoyz, Dog Shit Militia
We just burnt the studio down
Come call the fire truck

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