Bigryanbread - Unregistered Firearm (feat. ETK)
I keep a, I keep a, I keep a unregistered firearm in my glove boxI don't wanna fight, uh-uh, I wanna send shots
Pussy keep on dissin', don't know Steven, bitch, I'm on top
I ain't with the kissin', bitch, you leavin' once my rocks off,
Top-notch, jumpin' through these numbers like it's hopscotch
Pop-pop, only thing they hear once them shots off,
Chop-chop 150 shots at your top, dog
Shottas waitin' for my word and they go pop ya
Sneak diss keep on talkin' shit and you gon' meet this
Bleed him, hole up in his chest, he couldn't breathe, bitch
Geekin', why you rock the boat if you get seasick
Clean fits, every single day can't rock no cheap shit
They know, everywhere we go, that's where the money go
There he go takin' off to space, you need a telescope
Hella dope, blowin' through my body, need a stethoscope
let me know, just put all the money in a envelope,
This that ETK and BRB, we cookin' hella smoke
This shit hella dope, if we hit that lick, don't drop your pole
I'm runnin' up the fuckin' score droppin' all these fuckin' hoes
Just to get my bands up, everybody get their hands up
Ain't got no belt to hold amiri jeans up
That's why I keep my glocky, that shit stay tucked
And we ain't got no papers on the motherfuckin' gun
better watch how you move, cause the spidal ain't fun
got no papers for this weapon, unregistered smith and wesson, wait, hold on, hold on, hold on,
Unregistered smith and wesson, he want smoke that get depressing
Kill yo homie, learn yo lesson, do not act like we not steppin'
I'm with yo bitch, get to stretchin', smashin' her hydraulic pressin'
online dissin' boy don't press send, that's a one-way trip to heaven
Talkin' shit that get you knocked out, for the drama, got my glock out
Workin' hard, no time to clock out, off of molly, I'ma rock out
She told me to pull my cock out, lay her down and blow her back out
Took a break, on god, I'm back now stay ten down, I never back down,
Off an upper and a downer, fuck that girl right on the counter
Eat that pussy, I devour, bitch, I'm fly, got superpowers
She just wanna have my hours, cut her off and she got sour,
Says she feel connection, router, I can't get no signals 'round her
BRB and ETK, we pave the game and lead the way
They got nothin', they can say, just shut the fuck up ride the wave
Lie to me, right to my face, bitch, you fucked up, not today
Drugs my only savin' grace, can't be sober for a day
We ain't got no ETA, hit a lit call it GTA
Steady droppin songs, but we ain't gettin' paid
Finna go cop some designer shades, or go cop some brand new J's
I don't give a fuck, I'm paid either way,
I don't even care if you goin' or you stayin'
Unregistered pipe when I fuckin' land',
Do it at a stop sign, that's all I'm sayin' bust once, leave em' all runnin' and prayin'
Ops pull me over, ain't got no papers, leave me in the jam, damn
Send all them shots at ya, pussy boy, bruh, bop, bop, bop, swerve at ya
Ma, ma, ma, and your grand, pa, pa, pa,
She want some cock, cock, cock, I told her nah, nah, nah
Not with the drama, ma, left her on dot, dot, dot,
We totin llama, mas, 100 shots, shots, shots, at yo crib, pop, pop, pop, at yo crib, pop, pop, pop
Written by:
Ethan Peters, Ryan Bret
Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
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