Musa - Dimes

Keep a rod I got bitches like Rod
Flipping raw I do not need a job
All my bitches dimes they don't got flaws
All my bitches dimes they don't got flaws
In the field yeah you gotta keep a steel
Keep a steel cause I saw that man get killed
Tryna get this guap bitch you know I will
Tryna get this guap bitch you know I will
Get to this guap bitch you know I kill
Popped a pill cause this shit is getting real
Tryna get in my bag yeah for real
Get to the bag yeah for real yeah
I put my dick inside her mouth
I'm like what you talkin bout
I'm smoking loud, that shout
I get her wet it ain't no drought
You treat the pussy like it's your house
I get it in and then I'm out
We keep straps like it's the south
We got straps right under the couch
What you talkin bout
Put this gun up in your mouth
Ain't no other route
I hadda make my own way
I got your bitch on my phone
She won't leave me the hell alone
Tryna run that bag
I'm tryna get that money
Gotta get my racks
Hadda get my funny down
Hadda run around town with the mac on 50
Any nigga try me he gon get 50
Nigga I do it like yeah I'll do 50
I don't give a fuck about none of that shit
Free my niggas out the jam
Free my nigga slick
Free my nigga buddhaman
Free my nigga nana
I be doing strange things to your bitch in a hotel
Oh well, I don't rock no jewels
Cuz any nigga tryna take them
He gon get ou shells
They gon get uzi shells on him
They gon stick to him they gon burn him
They gon put him 6 ft in that dirt
Yeah it's gon hurt I pop a perc
Then I get low

Written by:
Musa Fayyaz

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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