23RcB - Cold Lil Nigga

Just a cold lil nigga fresh from Schaefer & Bassett
With a whole lotta poles only semi automatics
Chill nigga but the shooters quick make some shit tragic
Broke lil boy ain't got no wheels how you gone catch me in traffic
Niggas keep on speakin on me and its seemin real faggot
Just spent 900 for a plain grey jacket
Rip my brotha this his shit I had to murder me a classic
Threw 35 hunnid for some cartier glasses
I will be alotta shit but i will never be bagless
Goto saks and then i cash it when i wear the shit its tagless
I ain't purpin I ain't hurtin i tryin to return it
If you the bitch you with touch it I'ma have to go and burn it
I act up
I act a ass
See them folk I do the dash
Flew my buffies straight from Paris sat the shits in first class
Fuckin on them classy bitches
Hoes you fuckin on is crass
Verified alumni first place you niggas last
I'm the question and the answer
Always shittin with no pamper
Punched up so much drip its a half a ticket in my hamper
Granny say i stay sharp
Grandad used to say I'm dapper
Lil nigga tryna rap he need to throw it
In the crapper
That shit ass and you a bitch
Always tryna gobble dick
Worried bout some stu time you need to worry bout yo kid
Let him know that you a bum and can't afford to get him shit
Maybe that'd break the chain of poor bitch nigganess
Real niggas feelin this
E & Rah be feelin
Keep on playin watch the hallows rip through yo ligaments
A thug and a gentleman
Flyer than a pelican
Vowed to ball til i fall like I'm Damar Hamlin
Eric hit me in my dreams he said i like the bag i'm in
I keep the blick and extra clips right below my abdomen
Allergic to these broke niggas gotta keep a
epipen
I refuse to argue with you if you ain't touched 10
Lawyer trippin in the court he throwin hands
Big Ben
I'm the holes very own same hood as Meech and them
Bitch I'm the shit and really lit got niggas sick as tiny tim
I'ma macboy soulja when you see me hand to brim
Heard the lord talkin bout me say its no one hard as him
Movin weight all day but I'm barely at the gym
Red tips in the clip i ain't selfish you can feel I'm him
Not them
Y'all fake
I'm real
K hit him in his shit can't feel his face or limbs
The fresh prince of this shit I ain't Phil or Will
When I drop take cover this is not no drill
Cause this the typa shit thats hot enough to ignite a whole field
And thats mainly where I be at
Sellin out that one pack
Bougie lil nigga tell the ratchet hoes to back back
Apple sauce around me hittin juggs off that one jack
Only got the loud and pints around but i talk crack
A Trap baby grandpa was the plug the other did smack
I ain't tryna glamorize it that shit just facts
Cookin in the kitchen doctor mask
glove latex
Ball hard
I flex
Mason jar
Pyrex
Aye

Written by:
Bre'Aire McWilliams-Hamilton

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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