Drippa - Pop Dat Shit

Goin in nigga no hook
Pockets pape notebooks
Wrist workin no cook
Ran it up for all the struggle and the L's took
Hellie cautious when I ride
Just in case the toolie sittin on the P side
Aye
Extra crispy like i'm deep fried
I'm dat nigga not one of these guys
Salty my dawg in the ground tombstone over his head
Pose to be rite here wit ya bros runnin up bread
And fuck all these hoes never trust em keep this player
I done blaze so much za room cloudy like we in air
Vv's on my neck hittin hard that why they stare
Been down for so long now it up like we took the stairs
Always on the go never sittin down like i'm allergic to chairs
Streets turn a nigga heart cold like bottom of sleds
Talkin but it ain't bout money I ain't tryna hear it
And every day I throw dat shit on be fly like a spirit
These niggas don't be havin they all talk these niggas parrots
All I need in this world is sum gwap and sum za
Everyday I see money jus like Dr1pp was a eye
Nigga test i'ma stove you get hit wit dis fi
Grind hard for all them days I was tryna get by
Run it up
I owe the world to mom dukes
Broke thots tryna kick it bitch i'm sorry I ain't got time to
I be stuck to the pape jus like i'm glue
Roll a wood blunt the size a peg on a mongoose
Pop me ox now i'm juiced
Bitch I stay lit jus like i'm fuse
My pockets sad they got blues
Wake up and get me sum pape wit out tryin to

Written by:
Antonio Mcneezer

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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Drippa

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