Skilla Baby, Sada Baby, Rio Da Yung OG, RMC Mike - Jackie Moon lyrics

(Ooh, Elroy, It's Fresh808Gang, bitch)
Huh?
We ain't goin' nowhere without five in the
Hmm

It's 'bout four
Five niggas with me ridin' with the chops
When we slide down your block
We ain't goin' nowhere without
Findin' the opps
Ho nigga think it's cool to be slime
But it's not fuck wipin' niggas' nose
I'll knock out the snot nigga, I do not box
Take a nigga birthday, make him rot in a box
Make a nigga go to bed, hmm
Can't let the fame go to my head, hmm
Juan told me them jokes ain't the same
Don't let that go over your head

Blind just jumped off the plane from the H
I ain't been here fifteen


Minutеs, dropped an eight, huh
Get a nigga scrapеd for
That pape', press play, huh
Weed I'm smokin' on came from Cali
Love the taste
Catch an attitude, punch you in the face
I'm an ape
Fresh as hell while I do it, stomp a
Nigga in some Bape, ah, duh

Fuck it, huh, let the chopper off
Fuck the party up, knock a noggin off (Huh)
Less apes is more apes, niggas cotton soft
I'll hit a ho nigga with a cotton ball
Bandcount Mari'll snatch a nigga pockets off
If Skub say dawg ain't bool
We all sockin' dawg

Swear to God they is, if he tough
Then we poppin' dawg
Huh, hit a nigga in the head with a rocket
Aw huh, extra good with the white
So I rock the Off
Overlay for the ándale, get rocked to sleep
Fifty plays in thirty days, gotta drop VVs
Gotta drop CDs, know my fans gon' cop for me
Skilla drop PP and he up bands
He actin' like me
He act like him, he the GOAT
We'll get on your rim
You act like them, you controlled
That nigga a Sim
That nigga a simp, leg shot
Leave him with a limp
Silverback AR with the monkey nuts
Shoot a chimp shit on a nigga, point at him
Skuba Shawn Kemp i hit the kitchen
Blow the dope up like a blimp
That nigga ain't smokin' zaza, it's all hemp

Opp niggas tryna play D, got scored on
Tryna stop the rain
Fuck around got poured on
My four-five knock an opp
Bitch out her hormones
Smoke a nigga like a Cookie blunt
Leave you Oreos
Shoot a nigga in the face, no torsos
You think we tryna let the nigga live? Nigga
Course not
Nigga, come sign to Big Squad, get a boatload
Gangbangers, criminals, we support those

Opp niggas tryna play "I ain't did shit"
That's the type of time
You can get your wig split
Huh, got the type of 9 take a USB chip
Hmm, naw, I'm cappin'
Bitch still sweet as hell you'll win a ring
Weak as hell like you Jordan Bell
I just put some 'bows on the road
More in the mail
Ho thought she had my number
But I gave her Skills
He picked up the phone like, "Huh?"

Baby, how the fuck you get my number
What the hell?
Quit doin' fan shit, bein' extra
Psych, naw, this a voicemail, leave a message
It's members only, gotta be gang
No guest list my bitch make the footballs
Touchdown in Pittsburgh
Make her come back on Jerome Bettis
Elbow grease in the pot, I need extras
Turn my opps to a blunt, let 'em burn
It's Friday, Smokey, what you earned?
Shoot at a ho nigga wig, make him do the worm
Turn a ho nigga to some ashes in an urn

Here come another ho nigga mama
On the news lyin' again
Actin' like she don't know why
Her son done died again
Never mind that bitch
I'ma pour some lines again

If a nigga feelin' better than me right now
He on his motherfuckin' feet
He in the motherfuckin' game
He is not on the bench nor in the bleachers
Bitch he in the game ballin'

2020 Hellcat, it's a wide body
If a nigga lookin' for me
I'm outside probably
Pop your main shooter in his head
When I slide by him
Then Mike shot him in his
Heart so he died dyin'
Used to ain't have fifty cents
But I'ma get rich or die tryin'
I'm so full of shit with my hoes
I'll lie 'bout lyin'
Please don't swing on me in the club
People die fightin' fuckin' raw
I done probably got burned
More times than firefighters
Skub, Skilla, Mike, Rio
What the fuck is this?
Shot a two-two at my car
And didn't puncture it
I slid back with a K and hit a bunch of shit
We gon' treat the beef like some wet pussy
We comin' quick

I done made like 30K on a bad day
Pimp a bitch for everything like Grace
Bring my ashtray hit her off a Perc'
Made her squirt with the mad face
Drop Karo in the syrup, that's a bad eight
Hoo, what's in your left pocket?
'Bout to tell ya strip
Niggas ain't up, they really broke
They pretend rich hit him with a left, man
He rest there defenseless
What's the cause of death? Bitch
Check the forensics
Tie your bitch up like a hog
Made her walk to me
Swear to God last night them
Perky thangs talked to me
Hundred pack of zazas
I got them thangs brought to me
Now a nigga on, everything seem off to me

If you ain't talkin' 'bout a dub
Don't talk to me
And I got a loyal crackhead who'll walk to me
I bought a pint and a four yesterday
So my pop muddy we could drop a fourteen
I just bought a twenty

I like to get my dick sucked
While I play the game
And I'm still tryna fuck, naw
I ain't gon' say her name
Hit you niggas with some street magic, bitch
I'm David Blane
Or hit your block with two Glock
40s like I'm Major Payne

Oh, y'all shootin' up cribs? We
Can play that game
Or we can meet and go to war
Skub great at aiming
The dawg I got off the chain
And I ain't gon' tame it
Dropped two hundred shots out the Glock
I'll break the chamber

Bitch gave me head in the morning
I ain't even thank her
I like to fuck off old songs from Anita Baker
Bust a nut, light one of my squares, bitch
See you later pimp a bitch down to the
Bone in some see-through gators

With the offense we got
We'd defeat the Lakers
You don't see guns around
My niggas be on papers
But we still got guns around
Don't think we playin'
Hop out the car and run you down
I don't need a laser
If my nigga fucked up, give him ten
Have him be the favor
Yeah, you could get it cash now
I'ma meet you later
Just popped an M-30 blue box
I'ma eat two later
Bae, you gotta suck my dick now
I'ma eat you later

Bitch said she got that bubblegum
I'ma need two flavors
Ri', I just popped one too
I'ma need two eighters