Griselda, Keisha Plum - May Store lyrics

Ah, let's go

I don't feel no pressure
I feel like this my callin'
Bought the work,  a hour later
I had to flush it down the toilet (Damn)
Every time they kicked the door down
I'm who took the charges (Me)
I came back and trapped harder
Just in case they thought I lost it (What)
I was starin' them pots over
With terrorist block soldiers
Yeah, I went from heroin to
A Merrill Lynch stock broker (Ah)
She coulda got a pair of tit's from
The pair of kicks I'm quotin'
All my hoes crazy
I can't fuck unless she bipolar
Eastside legend like Sly and Rodney C
I really beat white
I'm Mr t from Rocky I I I


You let these hoes sweet talk you
You niggas get rocked to sleep
You pay that bitch rent
I ask that ho what she got for me
(What you got for me?)
They know I'm up now
But my only hustle was not the streets (Nah)
So when they touched down
I can still front you a block a piece
I know hoes that won't fuck you
And jewelers that's out your reach
(Uh, huh) i don't hate niggas
I see 'em as students that I can teach
(Butcher)

Ayo, I'm in these streets waist deep
(Talk to 'em)
If I can't eat with you, you can't eat
(Hah)
That's how we give it up on May Street
(May Block, pussy)
May Street, pistol whip you
You get your face beat (Cap)
40, no safety, tucked right where my waist be
(What's poppin'?)
Yeah, race to the top, who wanna race me?
(Uh, huh)
I don't chase money, money chase me
(I'm gettin' bags, nigga)
Countin' these bands
It's been a great week (Cap)
'Member, I cooked my first deuce
That jar busted in Renee seat
(I was fucked up)
I feel like Cam, painted the Wraith pink
(Hah)
Bitches like, damn, they wanna taste me
(Uh, huh) , skeleton AP (You see me)
Give me a minute, bro, I can't think
(Hold up) i'm too busy countin' this
Money for the lawyer
So my dog can get his case beat
(We on the way, nigga)
Yeah, I been a G since I jumped off the porch
(Hah)
Still ridin' with the pump in the Porsche
(Cap) yeah, still G-ridin'
Leave you slumped on your porch
(Boom, boom, boom)
I came up hustlin' the stuff that you snort
Them niggas sneak dissin'
Me, that's nothin', of course
(That's light)
'Cause I can have them niggas
Clipped like it's nothin', of course
(Hah) rock this designer shit
She wanna know what this shit cost
I told her all you need to
Know is you fuckin' a boss (Haha)
Yeah, chopper loaded, lock
And loaded, snitchin', i do not condone it
Pop his dome in, I don't know shit
I keep goin'
Forty pointers, watch is frozen, I send ten
From Toronto to San Antonio
But it's not DeRozan, box is loaded up

Ayo, we know it's fuckin'
Murder, shoot you
Ain't gon' take it further (Brr)
Hit your son up, hit your
Daughter, shot your bitch
Put on your coffin niggas starvin'
My niggas in Ferrari with the top off
(Skrrt) and niggas bossin', need talk
For stunner bricks, don't call Steve Austin
(Ah) fear of God joggers, joggin'
Niggas think they fake important
To me, you just a fuck nigga
Blow your head off soon as I walk in
(Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
I don't do no fuckin' talkin', ballin'
Just Don sportin'
GT on Rodeo with my rich white bitch
(Skrrt, rich white bitch)
Niggas talkin' culture, but not like this
(But not like this)

I'm a killer and I'm gonna kill again
I wrote this with a devilish grin
I'm lookin' at his neck full of gold
I know what kind of car he drove
Holy Ghost, his soul that Calico
Any one of my niggas can snuff you
They solid and all official
What would ChineGun do? Buffalo is ruthless
Throw you off the roof shit
Kicked him in his face
Until he's fuckin' toothless
Murderous music, I'm from the fuckin' zoo
City full of villains and mobsters too
Burner to his dome, what would ChineGun do?
It's Griselda, nigga
The Butcher, Machine, Gunn, and Plum
Filthiness riddled all in your eardrum
When it's a price on your head
It's not up for discussion
Two slugs in your bitch face
Those are the repercussions
This nigga wouldn't stop pleadin' for his
Life all of a sudden
We wipe away your whole bloodline
That's word to slime
So we waitin' until his seeds
Get off the bus
Guaranteed these lil' bastards gonna
Put up a fuss
And we slittin' their throats right
In front of you thoughts of a criminal
What would ChineGun do?
Niggas will pistol whip your granny
Run a train on your mammy
I'm spiteful and death is delightful yeah