Big Scarr - Don't Stop

(Tahj Money)
Yup
Frozone
Mmm, mmm-mmm, mmm-mm
Uh, yup

Uh, yup, shows comin' in, but the P's don't stop (P's don't stop)
Put it in my nine, Ray Charles on the Glock (on the Glock)
Big micro, put a nigga in the box (put him on box)
Designer track runners, double G's on my socks (on my socks)
Uh, nigga, we ain't duckin' no smoke (no, no)
Only time we runnin' when the narcs hit the spot (yeah, the narcs)
Uh, I'm really thuggin' in the streets, only time I'm on the porch is when the box finna drop
Crybaby, snotty nose, boogers in the watch (boogers in the watch)
Psychic vision, had a dream 'bout the guap (dream 'bout the guap)
Decapitate a nigga, leave his brains in one spot (brains in one spot)
Contaminate the Glock, fresh blood from a opp (yeah, a opp)
Nigga, we ain't squashin' no beef (no, no)
Spin again and again 'til somebody else drop (gotta drop)
You would have been dead but you workin' with the cops (workin' with the cops)

Uh (what?)
Yup (yup)
Certified shooters on point like a sniper (shooters on go)
Fuck a Hellcat, pulled up in the Viper (yoom)
Shitbag a nigga, now he gotta wear a diaper
Christian Loub' shoes, bleed red like a psycho (drip)
Hell nah, I don't want the P through the mail
Hit the road, yeah, I still overnight 'em (no ship)
We ain't savin' hoes, yeah, we only one-night 'em (yeah)
I just wanna fuck, you and her can hold the title (hold the title)
Forty thousand in my jeans, make my pants fit tighter (pants fit tighter)
I'm the chosen one, feelin' light like disciples (like disciples)
Stolen car with the dealer seal, no title (no title)
Free my dogs out the pen', I'm on the road, still writin' 'em (yup)
Can't take me out, up north in New York with the sticks and we screamin', "Fuck Rikers" (yup)
Ride with them choppers like bikers (like bikers)
Shoot shit up, I feel bad for a fighter (for a fighter)
Real street nigga, you a Facebook typer (you a typer)
Ridin' with the gang, right or wrong, you in danger (yup, yup)
Cool with clientele, I don't really serve strangers (nope, nope)
Shooters on go, hell nah, can't tame 'em (brrt)
Smokin' woopty-woop, feds listen, can't name 'em (can't name 'em)
I was down bad in the trap, I done came up (I done came up)
Reach for the chain, guarantee you'll get flamed up (brrt, brrt)

Uh, yup, shows comin' in, but the P's don't stop (P's don't stop)
Put it in my nine, Ray Charles on the Glock (on the Glock)
Big micro, put a nigga in the box (put him on box)
Designer track runners, double G's on my socks (on my socks)
Uh, nigga, we ain't duckin' no smoke (no, no)
Only time we runnin' when the narcs hit the spot (from the narcs)
Uh, I'm really thuggin' in the streets, only time I'm on the porch is when the box finna drop
Crybaby, snotty nose, boogers in the watch (boogers in the watch)
Psychic vision, had a dream 'bout the guap (dream 'bout the guap)
Decapitate a nigga, leave his brains in one spot (brains in one spot)
Contaminate the Glock, fresh blood from a opp (yeah, a opp)
Nigga, we ain't squashin' no beef (no, no)
Spin again and again 'til somebody else drop (gotta drop)
You would have been dead but you workin' with the cops (with the cops)

Bitch-ass nigga
Yup
Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm
Yup
Yup, yup, yup

Written by:
Alexander Woods, Tahj Money

Publisher:
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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