Drakeo The Ruler and Bravo the Bagchaser - Not Normal

I'on play fair
He was lackin' I caught his son at the daycare
Pick him up
Actin' like I'on play wit' sticks an stuff (Duse makin' slaps trick)
I'm the Don, I John Gotti shit
Catch a body wit' me or a body for me
Your bitch is hot an lonely
A stick from Wyoming
He want some smoke wit' me, I gave him glaucoma
Ain't no stocks on it, my club is mops only
This a prop gun not a shotgun
Here come the cops comin' spin the block for me
These niggas dick riders this shit is not normal

You a pot smoker not a Glock owner
Bitches flock for me, spin the block for me
You a pot smoker not a Glock owner
Bitches flock for me, spin the block on him (block on him)
You a pot smoker not a Glock owner
Bitches flock for me, spin the block for me
Fake tough I'ma send a couple shots to him
Anything you see me doin' it is not normal
You a pot smoker not a Glock owner
Bitches flock for me, spin the block for me
Fake tough I'ma send a couple shots to him
Anything you see me doin' it is not normal

Shit, nigga
Anything you see me doin' it is not normal
Fake tough I'ma send a couple shots to him

If I tell her spin she gon' spin the block (she gon' spin for me)
Bet I get him for he ever, ever send a shot
It's a lot of foreigns, it's some pistols in the lot
All that talkin' on the 'Gram, that'll get you got (get you got)
An lately I been comin' fucked up (comin' fucked up)
I got a hunnid in the drum, hold a hundun (it hold a hundun)
Baby like my shoes? Bitch they Off-White (Off-White)
And I ain't even trynna' hear bout' your hard life (bitch)

You a pot smoker not a Glock owner
Bitches flock for me, spin the block on him
Fake tough I'ma send a couple shots to him
Anything you see me doin' it is not normal
You a pot smoker not a Glock owner
Bitches flock for me, spin the block for me
Fake tough I'ma send a couple shots to him
Anything you see me doin' it is not normal

Shit, nigga
Anything you see me doin' it is not normal (you not tough)
Fake tough I'ma send a couple shots to him

Bitch you fake tough, get you taped up
Let the K buss, leave you shaked up
You a funny guy, you really weigh sum
He from the Stinc Team, oooh man I hate blood

When I'm in the foreign I be speedin' doggy (I be speedin')
Got it on me, even if you can't see it on me (can't see)
Why you hate me? 'Cause I'm up an gettin' rich, huh? ('Cause I'm up, huh?)
And you the type to cry about a bitch, huh? (About a bitch, huh?)

Put a drum on it, who gon' run from me?
Bring the guns in here, he got his son in here
We let live but he couldn't keep his underwear
Strip a nigga, flip a nigga
Trip a nigga, chip a nigga
You a die put it on my Christian sneakers
He got moves, hit 'em wit the Justin Bieber
I love my choppa 'cause it gives me jungle fever

Fuck the rap shit before this, I done been on
You ain't on shit, I bought a whip, you jus' rent, huh?
Loyal to the soil I can tell you gon' bend huh? (You gon' bend, huh?)
You gon' bend, huh? (Bend, huh?)

You a pot smoker not a Glock owner
Bitches flock for me, spin the block on him
Fake tough I'ma send a couple shots to him
Anything you see me doin' it is not normal
You a pot smoker not a Glock owner
Bitches flock for me, spin the block for me
Fake tough I'ma send a couple shots to him
Anything you see me doin' it is not normal

Shit, nigga
Anything you see me doin' it is not normal
Fake tough I'ma send a couple shots to him

Written by:
Darrell Caldwell, Bravo the Bagchaser

Publisher:
Lyrics © FETCH PUBLISHING, The Administration MP, Inc., Songtrust Ave

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