Gordis - Holla Back Boyz II

Fuck nigga, leave him with a stitch, no lilo
Huh? Talking shit, disappear, no Nemo
Face washed down, my ice wrist sub zero
Aye, look watch how I switch my flow
Yeah, play with the gang, you catch a bullet, no bill
Nigga, reach for my chain, a pussy nigga get killed
Nigga, bang, bang, bang, how the hollow tips feel
When they hit yo brain, bet shit get spilled
I ain't playing no games, what I talk about is real
Switching lanes, doing 80 inside the whip
Aye, shoot my shot, got range you can't aim
When your aim is shot, you shoot but you miss
Aye, click, clack, ratatat, hit him with the chrome
If a pussy talking shit, nigga pull up to his home
Clone niggas, cap, they be beefing over the phone
Dead wrong if you pull up on me bitch, I let it blow
Blow, cock it back, blow, let that shit go
Pull up on your block and I paint it like Van Gough
Thought it was a joke till we pull up at your home
Now we knocking on yo door, leave em dead on the floor
Yeah, play with the gang, you catch a bullet, no bill
Nigga, reach for my chain, a pussy nigga get killed
Nigga bang, bang, bang, how the hollow tips feel
When they hit yo brain, bet shit get spilled
I ain't playing no games, what I talk about is real
Switching lanes, doing 80 inside the whip
Aye, shoot my shot, got range you can't aim
When your aim is shot, you shoot but you miss
Real mother fucking shit when I pull up to the club
Bitch, I'm chilling in the back
Straight counting up my hunnids
Fat motherfucker still take your bitch if I wanted
I'm a real motherfucker, that's why your bitch gone want me
Aye, aye, diamonds illuminate everywhere that I step
Talking shit around me, you gone need a bulletproof vest
Last motherfucker tried, I left a hole in his chest
And I'll do it again, motherfucker who next?
Take a motherfucker chain if he keep tryna flex
Take his bitch too, little momma giving neck
The whole squad hit, aye Jesse got next
Fantastic four, way my money stretch
Me and Luna on the track , we fucking up the beat
We fuck yo bitch too, straight demon in the deep
In the backseats
Snipe a motherfucker out Call of Duty camping
Why the the fuck he talking shit if he ain't down for the fade
Motherfuckers scared, they know Imma let my choppa spray
Let it spray, cause you a fucking roach, call my choppa raid
Make your girl holla back, way she screaming out my name
I just hit that bitch raw man, I think I broke her back
Throw it back man, I fucking love it when she sit my lap
God damn, shawty got an ass, I might throw a rack
I hit it twice, now she tripping, calling me her fucking man
I'm in a foreign, I'm dipping
You know I'm tripping off this codeine that I'm sipping
All these little bitches wanna hop up in my civic
Making bitches jump like I'm hitting fucking switches
Only smoke on backwoods, man don't ever pass me swishers
"Holla Back Boyz", yeah you know the fucking deal
All these motherfuckers hate us cause we keep it real
Three bad bitches, call them three square meals
Talk shit to yo face, give a fuck bout how you feel
Bitch, we back at it again
I don't give a fuck, you I'm popping fucking meds
I don't give a fuck, you know I hop up in a benz
Talk shit to my face, you gone end up fucking dead
My bitch so bad, she don't need a bbl
Yeah, she ice cold, you won't ever see her melt
Stunt my shawty out, I put diamonds on her belt
And she always smell good, man that new Coco Chanel

Written by:
Gerardo Diaz

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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