Finatic - Up The Stick

Gang, Aye Gang
Blttt, Aye Bow
Aye Aye Aye, Gang
Gang, Finatic Im SoSlimee
Gang Gang, Gang
Gang, Gang Gang
Gang, Gang
Might hit us a tree, when we uppin' them sticks
It's Boyz in the Hood, I jump out the wheels
Get hit in his back, now he fallin' like Rick
Slide in a covid mask, and the bullets flu thru his body
Now lil' bro sick
And, I had told the lil' bitch
I'll "give her a treat, if she doin' tricks on the dick"
And that shit beefy, her shit thick
This glock ain't Nintendo, it came with a switch
Remember them days, I was smokin' a nick
Now, I'm smokin' a dub the fuck is a nick?
The clip got inches, this shit like a dick
Get him out the game, like lil' bro quit
Boy, you tryna run, you ain't to quick
These shots gon', go thru his hair like a pick
The gun rude as hell, the bullets would spit
Call bro to shoot, I call that assist
Get hit in ya head, when I'm uppin' the blick
I'll get him deleted, it take me a click
I see me a bucket, I'm shooting swish
He gettin' broke down, I'm flippin' the whip
these hallows be punchin', when I do a hit
I'm shooting the clip, we makin' a skit
Might hit us a tree, when we uppin' them sticks
I'm swingin' with bro send shots from the whip
These bullets gon' wet him
When we hit a lick
A flash from the gun, that's a bad flick
He gon' get rocked, and I'm not throwin' bricks
Say, "hey" to Bruce Lee
Cuz', this shit got a kick
And, lil' bro mad
Cuz', I'm bangin' his bitch
Dickridin' and shit, like suck my dick
Bronem, wake up
Brush his teeth, then dip now he outside
Ercs got him high, tryna' send a nigga to the sky
Me and Doomut, roll up one-point-five
Then, we gettin' fried
Pushin' P, with the P90
I ain't playin' COD
Niggas, got me on a hundred
Now, I'm charged up
Metaphors, could get me in a cell
I be barred up
I'm the king, niggas get the lyin'
They get scarred up
Lil' bro talkin' foul, that's a reach now he far up
Bitch better chill, fore' I curl up her crochete
I whip out the grip, then I take em' survey
I give bro the word, we takin' a essay
Bullets gon twirl him, dancin', ballet
Shots gon' rip him, now his body blocked in driveway
I'ma catch him on the wrong route, shoot his lil ass up
Then, he gon be left on the highway, like
We gon' line em', and trace em'
I bang at his taper, now he got a low cut
Gun leave him hot
Now, he got a cold cut
Rounds to his head, I'ma knock off his donut
A B, you better C, that I ain't dumb
I stepped on him, now he stuck gum
I'm Fiveten, fuck where you from
The chopper gon' sing, this shit gon' hum
Gang, Bitch

Written by:
Abdullah Bey

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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