CMB KayBandz, SmuttyBoyZlo - Lala

La la la za za za
Glock on my hip hearing shah shah shah
Nigga better duck, gon' get shot shot shot
Finna hit the fiends cause the block hot hot
Why she in my ear, I'm hearing blah blah blah
Always on the go, I can't stop stop stop
Getting to the bread, I get the guap guap guap
Talkin' on his neck, he get pop pop popped
Like a soda can
Talkin' like he gang lil' bro, I don't know ya man
AR got a kick, I can't hold it but my shoulder can
Got a deck of cards, I can never show my other hand
Runnin' towards paper, oh shit, that's another band
How he tryna smoke you bro, you need to find another friend
Pop it at his top, he get dropped, that's another man
Say you ten toes think, you need to find another stance
Bitch, hey diddle diddle, get up out the middle
Bitch on my dick and she play it like a fiddle
Reaper by my side, finna have to come and get you
Showed his true colors, brody fruity like some Skittles
Bend down they block, bet they thought it was a missile
Pull a beating shit like we toting instrumentals
Aim it at his mouth, we gon' blow it at his dental
Dirty sticks and a whip, but it's not a rental
We gon' blow though
Put my heart on ice like I'm kickin' it with Frozone
I ain't tryna fuck, tell your bitch to put her clothes on
Heard you rock with opps lil' bro, that's a no no
Coming to our section lil' bro, that's a pole zone
Beating down her back, pull her tracks, tell her hold on
Put him in the blunt, where he at bro, he long gone
Sing it like a swan, he a rat, played that one song
Bitch, la la la, za za za
Glock on my hip, hearin' shah shah shah
Ayy, chop in the back, go grah grah grah
Heard they hit him in his matta stop
Now he can't think, foot on my neck
Remember thinking that I can't breathe
You ain't never have to hold it in till you can't see
I then really had to keep it ten till I can't sleep
That's the real me
Ayy, this a little riddle
Reaper come and get you, spit off the dome
I'ma gifted individual
Different when I hit you, I'ma press the issue
You weren't there, so why I'ma split it with you
Ayy, cause they know I'ma be up
You wasn't ridin' in the V why you say you keep yo heat tucked
And I know they can't see us
It's gon' take a hundred million of your best just to beat us
Ayy, slidin' on your block, we gon' see some shots
Chop on my hip, it go grah grah grah
Stupid little bitch I hear, la la la
Drake on my hip, we gon' slide nonstop
Ayy, but we gettin' guap
And she giving top, we gon' take a dub
That's gon' be another nigga lost
Tryna hit the stores, give me that, tell him fuck the cost
Remember all the days we was shoppin' at the fuckin' Ross
Ayy, but they la la so I think they in la la land
I can't stop till I get million dollars advance
20K and that just fallin' out of my pants
Niggas hatin' cause I'm just gon' do what they can't
Bitch, we go fuck a timeout
In the next six months, we gon' grind out
Brody, he ain't makin' it to this year, pour a line out
Niggas think we ain't finna make it, finna find out
Speakin' off the dome, yeah, it's off the mental
Got a cold heart and I rock it like a sigil
I'm the chosen one if you niggas got forgetful
Speakin' blurred lines, I be speakin' in some riddles
Chop it, go glah, hit the switch and change the tempo
Comin' for our spot, hope you niggas got the memo
Want my cut, yeah, a nigga wanna slice like Kimbo
When I'm on the top, don't be talkin' like I'm Kinfolk
La la la, za za za
Glock on my hip, hearin' shah shah shah
Choppa in the back and go grah, grah, grah
Talkin' like he gang, tell him stop, stop, stop
Finna hit the fiends cause the block hot, hot
Pockets lost a fight all these knots, knots, knots
I don't chit-chat, do that rah, rah, rah
Nigga, you a joke, I'm sayin' ha, ha, ha
Ayy, you funny as fuck
Needed a M in advance for the bad luck
Heard he had a starry night when the Glock struck
Tell me who you topping , promise that it's not us
Brodie slept his ass, feelin' strong with the buffs
How you say bring the heat, froze up on the Glock bus
We gon get his toe tagged , we gon get em' all tucked
You be shootin' when you run if you hit it's all luck
Heard a nigga wanna hoop, tell him put the ball up
Why you even call us, I'ma hit up all my niggas
And you know we all nuts
Tryna tell a nigga hoop he think we wanna ball sum
Ayy, what, why these niggas try they best
They got in to they necks, to try to get to me
Really, I ain't press, I take the lesser part
Up out my chest and out my soul and let it breathe
Tweakin' on the beat, got your bitches twerkin
Suckin' on the D, bro'll throw a pass
I catch it from the Deep , caught a opp
He learned his lesson with his feet
Niggas really wack they pressin for a feat
Singin' la la la, za za za
Chop on my hip, it go grrra, grrra, grrra
We gon' hit him in his matta, stop
We just comin' for the number one spot

Written by:
Keovianye Smith, Za’Vontae Fields

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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