Shoebox Baby, Fredo Bang - No Cap Pt. 2 lyrics

The internet be makin' shit
Somethin' it ain't, you see what I'm sayin'?
Ayy, this shit all cap, this shit just
This shit fiction, this shit for
The fans, this shit entertainment
You hear me? Slatt, it's 'Box

Ain't no cap, i'm in that 'Raq and I
Ain't talkin' 'bout Chiraq
They keep sayin', "Slide for Von"
But ain't no timin' on get back
I keep Switchy with me
The one I call my bro and on my strap
Either one of them take too long
I know the other gon' react
I can't lie, I woke up hot
Twenty missed calls from the guys
Mama told me buddy died
Ain't brush my teeth, i'm right on live
Yeah, it's bustin', let me call my traffic
Honk when you outside
Ain't no drivin' on no E Way, told 'em
"Ride down King Dive"
We on fifty-first, hold on, take this pic
I'm droppin' Ys i be trippin'
They might take a nigga Ls
For all these tickin'
I don't stop at red lights
I see tints and get to blickin'
I hate bitches that act dumb
It be so hard to call them women
Is you gon' slide? Is you gon' ride? Is
You gon' drop some for your guys?
Only thing you ever did was make a post
His mama cryin'
Catchin' bodies ain't that easy
I salute the ones that's ​tryin'
Call my phone talkin' 'bout some street
Shit, I'ma tell your ass, "You fried"
Thank God
I stopped pourin' up the Lean by the liters
Man, the withdrawal from that shit'll make
You think you had a fever i need Muwop back
The only one I know gon' be a leader
I don't text my bitch all day
She swear to God that I'm a cheater
I hate opp thots
Call up Hot Wheels, he bringin' hot cars
Only thing he seen was a flash and then, fah
Fah dead man, they left him on the
City, they left him red, man
All our switches metal
But we need the ones that's built in

Uh, yeah, we need the ones that's built in
Frrt, frrt, yeah, grr frrt, frrt, haha
Let me talk my shit, bitch, haha
Come on, yeah, slatt, it's 'Box

Hol' on, tag me in 'Box
You know it's gangster if I'm checkin' in
Nike tracksuit and black Forces
When I'm steppin' in
I got the drop that mornin'
I'm on his trial soon as he take it in
I really stand on business
I fuck your mama just to get the pin
Yeah, Glock twenty-one
I fucked around and brought the savage in
Right outside his crib
I'm on his ass soon as he bag it in
Talkin' 'bout a bag
Now it's a bag that he shittin' in
Got hit up, lost his legs
Now when he ridin' they gotta help him in
We spin in SRTs, skrrt, skrrt
I just peeled in i don't speak on dead
But if I did that's like countin' wins
When it come to rappers with these
Bodies I'm like top ten
'Box, he don't box, he has, grr
That be built in

Uh, yeah, we need the ones that's built in
Frrt, frrt, frrt, come on, frrt
Yeah, we need the ones that's built in
Yeah, slatt, it's 'Box, come on