Tay 400 & TFE Sheedo - Twitter

Gang shit, TFE, y'all know how it go
Gang
Gang
TFE, top figure, gang, gang
And I posted with twin them
JS, four double zero, gang, gang, gang, gang
Bitch trying to be for me but having bonds with other niggas
And that shit for the birds but she don't call herself twitter
And I moving kind of slumped because you know a nigga pilled up
And I screaming fuck the opps because it's always up with 'em
Trying to pull up in a bimmer but they don't call me Sim Simma
I was trying to fuck with her friend so you know I had to skip her
Gon' get rich any way, just trying to see which route quicker
She used to diss me, now I rapping, now she asking if I miss her
All that goofy shit only going to make things worst for you
I got to talk my shit dawg, I don't think that they hearing me
And all that mouth murdering you doing, ain't scaring me
A nigga really talented, I'm telling you, that's clear to see
Ain't tripping 'bout no rates, because that shit don't even bother me
Just know when I get on the beat, I be giving this all of me
This shit going big on big and this ain't getting no smaller king
Just know it's more time 'til a nigga hit the top, you see
Like real wibe, I just checking on the clock, you see
And I ain't chasing love, I want the money all to me
And like I say if you with a opp, then don't talk to me
I just vibing to the melody, I like the bounce from the beat
Spark the joint, hit it quick, cut it on and then I spit some heat
This a banger, when you hear this shit, just put it on repeat
She a freak hoe, she playing loyal but she trying to eat the meat though
I got to watch out for these snakes, they playing creep though
I can't speak on it, just leaving it to timing
I trying to write them off, I trying to send them flying
Knock 'em off the list, but I ain't gon' discuss that
She been bussing down everyone, how you cuff that
Bird ass hoes, flocking from team to team
She gon' set you up but that's your wife, what the fuck do you mean
These niggas goofy like for real, they ain't holding on no triggers
I can't love a friendly hoe, that's like you sharing with niggas
She ain't for you, boy these bitches for everybody
She ain't a homebody, that bitch is a block body
Like real shit, she for the streets probably
She ain't something that I really want to keep 'round me
The double cup hitting, it slurring up my speech on me
I on another level, you can't even reach to me
I can't beef 'bout no hoe, don't even speak to me
Climbing to the top, mashing anything what stopping me
Bitch trying to be for me but having bonds with other niggas
And that shit for the birds but she don't call herself twitter
And I moving kind of slumped because you know a nigga pilled up
And I screaming fuck the opps because it's always up with 'em
Trying to pull up in a bimmer but they don't call me Sim Simma
I was trying to fuck with her friend so you know I had to skip her
Gon' get rich any way, just trying to see which route quicker
She used to diss me, now I rapping, now she asking if I miss her
She asking if I miss her, baby I just want the sex
I ain't even giving head because I only want the neck
Soon time 'til I rich and I flying on a jet
And I ain't catering no dog 'cause I ain't never been a vet
Boy you better keep your track, 'cause if you play then you gon' feel
Sky high, dead booted 'cause I crack another seal
And my lines dead shocking like a motherfucking eel
And I be peeping all the snakes, them jokers ready get reveal
Like for real, and when I rapping, me and brodie on the same shit
That type of shit like if you play, you lose your brain shit
I cannot cuff you, 'cause you really on that team shit
I cannot do it babygirl, 'cause you a lame bitch
Real shit, bey I all about my gang shit
No going back and forth, this ain't no boomerang bitch
I really stepping, I ain't even got to bang bitch
Mob-ties, this a different type of language
Leave him for dead, like a phone on a charger
You can't line me up, you ain't no fucking barber
I can't move small, bey I got to move larger
I smoking on that dro', like a real ganja farmer
I could see it in your eyes, bey you full up with fear
I ain't playing no more games, fuck your truth and your dare
I ain't stopping my shit bey, my talent too rare
If you ain't fucking with the gang, carry your cunny, I don't care

Written by:
Rasheed Dewar, Shaqcoby Taylor

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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