O.B. Fly & Dreeestone - ATW
9-7-2 ATW!Dirty lil' nigga
He a dirty lil' nigga, on God
Dirty lil' nigga (Dirty lil' nigga)
Better tap in southwest in the building
He ain't wanna come home he rather go to the penitentiary (what)
Cuz if he ATW he ain't gon have shit to eat (true)
He ain't gon have nowhere to sleep (uh)
The streets got em beat (yeah)
His mama turned fiend and his brother OD'd
Ain't had a visit in 12 months (what)
His cell mates call em skunk(uhh)
If we was in the free world he proly put u in the trunk (let's go)
He a dirty lil nigga when you see em you might run
Treat you like you ain't a person convicted felon with a gun
I know you fucked up cuz I'm fucked up right wit you. (Yea)
2 hands on the 9 same time as his curfew (boom)
He wanna rap but can't perform his ankle keep 'em hostage
And he let his bitch go cus he heard she switchin' rosters (yea)
He was quiet in school he ain't hang around the talkers
But he never been bullied you can't push him in no locker
He made the wrong move, think before not after
He got life without parole and they turned 'em to a pastor (3 e’s!)
Uuh uhh B-B-But that don't make him weak
He always By hisself But he got Back up that's his heat
He tryna change his ways But now he Back up in them streets
He sticking to the code he'll never tattle on what he see
Don't act up get smacked up
I feel like I'm wit Green Bay the Packers
You know we will subtract a, opposition just to show him he is not a factor
I'm Born in it, was sworn in it
Everybody wanna rap I swear that it's more tenants
I'm the landlord kicking doors Bringing more vengeance
You could never Beat the Squad might as well join in it (Hey)
We got guns But we need moo, ro-ro-rocket launchers and torpedoes
Arms dealer for them c-notes, and to the top is the only direction we go
My foot it's on ya neck I know its heavy Denna bitch
He died in the living room, not blessed he full of shit
I was locked up mama told me that these niggas love to snitch
Suicidal mission could be a million dollar lick
Nigga You don't kno' me if you think I'd slit my wrist
Fuck yo big homie he don't take care of all his kids
Yea I got it on me it's right here don't take no pics
O.B. Fly it's still sum shit I won't forget
Hold up I don't know what them Niggas told ya
But my niggas stiffer than Bricks we'll never fold up
I don't know why you started rapping we got it sewed up
The game is mine I ain't passing the controller
Niggas rather see you starve than see a nigga get healthy
Rather see you down bad than see a nigga get wealthy
But we gone keep getting this cash
These rappers scared to get dirty
And we gone run it fast!
But we ain't selling no birdies
Ugn!
Written by:
Deondre Flanagan, Jason Obiefule
Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
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