Pressa - O.T.M (Out the Mud) lyrics
[Pressa - O.T.M Out the Mud lyrics]
Don't let me get it out the mud
And throw it in ya face
His biggest record ain't even better than my
Uh, yeah, Press Machine (boyband)
Yeah
Don't let me get it out the mud
And throw it in his face
His biggest record ain't even
Better than my throwaways
I sell a record but I
Could really sell anything
Car get riddled diddle dah bullets riddlin'
Bullets riddlin', shit ho, t yeah, it's crazy
Bullets riddlin', bullets hot, yeah
They blazin' bullets hit his back
Run Ricky but we chase him
They used to call me Rico now
I'm servin' crack to Jason whoa
I'm with the gang and all I
Know is fuck the rest
I know niggas catch a body like
It's somethin' off their chest
I know niggas servin' junkies
Now he walkin' off the edge
It's so hard to click over
When my niggas call collect
They keep cuttin' out the threeway
Question him for three days
Homicides get beat, aye
They promise he ain't leavin'
Lawyer with no briefcase
And he walk out the station
Smilin' like a demon
I wanna live good
If I don't know the business then
I go read the book my nigga, yeah
He stuck ain't no leavin' the hood
Condo next to the hood
I drop a hit now I'm ready to book (Whoa)
You see I'm sick, I got a Wassa disease
(Whoa)
He get shot and now he washed and deceased
(Whoa) w, so we double the V (Whoa)
Homicide, this ain't regular D's (Whoa)
I came off of thirty-six O's
You see, the police tryna hang me with ropes
I went to hunnid from O
I met some niggas that play wit' their nose
I got some dawgs but don't play wit' a bone
Yeah you know how it go
Don't let me get it out the mud
And throw it in his face
His biggest record ain't even
Better than my throwaways
I sell a record but I
Could really sell anything
Car get riddled diddle dah bullets riddlin'
Bullets riddlin', shit hot yeah it's crazy
Bullets riddlin'
Bullets hot yeah they blazin'
Bullets hit his back
Run Ricky but we chase him
They used to call me Rico now
I'm servin' crack to Jason whoa
And throw it in ya face
His biggest record ain't even better than my
Uh, yeah, Press Machine (boyband)
Yeah
Don't let me get it out the mud
And throw it in his face
His biggest record ain't even
Better than my throwaways
I sell a record but I
Could really sell anything
Car get riddled diddle dah bullets riddlin'
Bullets riddlin', shit ho, t yeah, it's crazy
Bullets riddlin', bullets hot, yeah
They blazin' bullets hit his back
Run Ricky but we chase him
They used to call me Rico now
I'm servin' crack to Jason whoa
I'm with the gang and all I
Know is fuck the rest
I know niggas catch a body like
It's somethin' off their chest
I know niggas servin' junkies
Now he walkin' off the edge
It's so hard to click over
When my niggas call collect
They keep cuttin' out the threeway
Question him for three days
Homicides get beat, aye
They promise he ain't leavin'
Lawyer with no briefcase
And he walk out the station
Smilin' like a demon
I wanna live good
If I don't know the business then
I go read the book my nigga, yeah
He stuck ain't no leavin' the hood
Condo next to the hood
I drop a hit now I'm ready to book (Whoa)
You see I'm sick, I got a Wassa disease
(Whoa)
He get shot and now he washed and deceased
(Whoa) w, so we double the V (Whoa)
Homicide, this ain't regular D's (Whoa)
I came off of thirty-six O's
You see, the police tryna hang me with ropes
I went to hunnid from O
I met some niggas that play wit' their nose
I got some dawgs but don't play wit' a bone
Yeah you know how it go
Don't let me get it out the mud
And throw it in his face
His biggest record ain't even
Better than my throwaways
I sell a record but I
Could really sell anything
Car get riddled diddle dah bullets riddlin'
Bullets riddlin', shit hot yeah it's crazy
Bullets riddlin'
Bullets hot yeah they blazin'
Bullets hit his back
Run Ricky but we chase him
They used to call me Rico now
I'm servin' crack to Jason whoa