Quando Rondo - New Suppressor lyrics

I need to talk to Mike Laury
Hello? This is Mike Laury (Mm-mm)
Dubba-AA flex (Mm)
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Only in my chopper I trust (Grrat)
Yeah (Winning lottery numbers coming up)

I feel like Rondo with this nine on my waist
I ain't talkin' basketball
We bring straight gun smoke and
That state to state
Walked around the corner
I bang and blast 'em all
Timmy slangin' iron
Run down blood on the gate
(Like, "Boom, boom, bop, ") bitch
This that casket talk
Flipping through the immey
Shaking jump out drake
Nobody safe, don't come out after dark
She say she like the way this Patek spark
Ayy she like the way that I'm shinin', yeah
Open my mouth and I'm blindin' them
Wе really slangin' iron at them
New supprеssor on the Glock, ayy, ayy
When Leaky get out, I'ma buy him a pistol
Bleeding right out the help scalp
From a big 9 meter
Fuck it burn out they trap
I shoot at every hitta
Who and I say ouuwee I’m loaded aye
Tell me who want smoke inside this party
I make Pluto blow the K
I just gave my youngin' thirty thousand
With a 38 glock with the drum
We steady mobbin' and tryna
Boost the murder rate
We look for somethin' inside the projects
We stepped on him, him, and him today?

Glock with a beam, we go up with the metal
Killin' run in my genes, see
My uncle a steppa i be rockin' Supreme with
The Burberry letters
My lil cousin's thirteen but
In love with Berettas
Ayy, I'm tryna figure out how can I catch him
Take 'em out by his house, when he come out
We wet 'em couple Ps in the trunk
We put thousand or better
They know that we put that heat on whoever
Leave some blood on the street
Then we thrown down the leather
Tell 'em turn on the beat then
I dance with the devil
Ain't no internet beef so
Y'all better be careful
Put that boy on a T-shirt
Since he did all that rapping
Get the lock off the cheap
Then I step on the pedal
From the East to the West
Slangin' nine in the ghetto
Got a foot on they neck 'til they break
I won't let up
Only reason they hate 'cause I
Run up my cheddar stick to the code
Don't trust a bitch you'll get set up
Thinkin' my codeine and my
Crip, cuz' screamin' out, "It's whatever"
(yeah, yeah)
Designer clothes, me, phat, me an wheezy
Was back to Fran Wesser (Oh yeah)
Dig up and go who not beneath me
With a brick and a shovel, yeah

I feel like Rondo with this nine on my waist
I ain't talkin' basketball
We bring straight gun smoke and
That state to state
Walked around the corner
I bang and blast 'em all
Timmy slangin' iron
Run down blood on the gate
(Like, "Boom, boom, bop, ") bitch
This that casket talk
Flipping through the immey
Shaking jump out drake
Nobody safe, don't come out after dark
She say she like the way this Patek spark
Ayy she like the way that I'm shinin', yeah
Open my mouth and I'm blindin' them
We really slangin' iron at them
New suppressor on the Glock, ayy, ayy
When Leaky get out, I'ma buy him a pistol
Bleeding right out the help scalp
From a big 9 meter
Fuck it burn out they trap
I shoot at every hitta
Who and I say ouuwee I’m loaded aye
Tell me who want smoke inside this party
I make Pluto blow the K
I just gave my youngin' thirty thousand
With a 38 glock with the drum
We steady mobbin' and tryna
Boost the murder rate
We look for somethin' inside the projects
Like fuck him it’s a murder case