StanWill - OMG lyrics

Gavin on the beat
Dog Shit Militia, haha, yeah, bitch
Dog Shit Militia, haha, bitch, yeah, okay

Dog Shit Militia, bitch
We tripping at the Ritz-Carlton
Every outfit I throw on
Know the blick part of it
They ain't eating opposition
They just dick gargling
At the club mean-mugging
In this bitch starting shit
Thirty big 308's, bet this bitch parking shit
I rock Chrome, now and then
But I been heartless, bitch
I be chilling in the 'burbs
But my crib far as shit
Put a muzzle on them bitches
If your bitch bark again
(Whew, okay, okay, huh)
She like "OMG, boy, you got stacks
" she think I'm GMO
Bitch, you call that one opp Caitlyn Jenner
We know he a ho
If they think they fucking with us
Then they must can't see the score
Closet like a ocean, getting dressed
I think I need a boat
Every time I look into a mirror
Why I see a GOAT?
Got a red light underneath the Glocky
Thinking he on go
Bro infatuated with the drank
He might just pee a fo'
(Dog Shit Militia, fuck is
You talking 'bout? yeah, whole lot of that)
Thirty in the Glock, bitch, I'm war ready
I might throw a dub at the
Strip and leave the floor messy
Twenty 201s in this whip
You know I'm store ready
Brodie start his day off with a six
He only pour heavy
I knew I was finna get the
Neck before this whore met me
I might buy a booty for my
Bitch and make her more sexy
Barking in the kitty
Fuck I look like tryna floor Chevy's?
(Skrrt, skrrt)
This a Glock party, I told gang
"Throw your sticks up"
Thinking that she loyal, boy
You finna get your bitch fucked
Stay on P's and Q's
I can't tolerate no slip-ups
Basic Turtle Pie and Tiramisu
Gang got big lungs (yeah, huh)
Bitch, I'm finna blow like a IED
I won't stop hitting model
Bitches 'til I'm ninety-three
Feel like Lipton with this Glockiana
I'll ice his tee
This a Glocky with the switch attached
Do I SRT the Jeep or do I get a 'Cat? (Skrrt)
Brodie fly exotics out, he Mr send The Pack
Took your yearly salary and spent
That shit in Saks
They couldn't fuck with me then
They can't fuck with me now
They gon' break your lil' heart
You put your trust in these thots
I ain't even have to speak
Your bitch done jumped on my cock
It's a hunnid in this fucker
Get it dumped on your block
Brodie dropped a Presidential like
He fuck with Barack
Unky got the dirty baby blicky
Tucked in his sock
Got more weapons than the Navy
Who the fuck finna box?
Brodie aim for obligadas
Better duck if he pop
I got ten and nine milli's
That's what's stuffed in my Glock
Threw this bitch seal crack and
Double cups full of Wock'
Finna shoot the fuck all day
I need lunch when I shop
Had to tell her, "I ain't even tryna fuck
Give me top"

Huh, ayy
ShittyBoyz, Dog Shit Militia, that's
On every song, fuck is you talking 'bout?
Yeah, though