Darri Glo - Wiicked Flow 2

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I don't walk or talk a lot, my phone keep ringin, bail in car I serve some p's and hit some blocks, fifteen was sellin, nickel rocks Diamond chain dancing, plain watch, yeah, i can fight, but i won't box But i'ma star, you gon' get popped, she tryna give me head and swap I'm tryna get my head, get lost, they send pop shots, then we gon' toss When our block hot, we don't go home, still in the projects on the phone with hoes If we all put a hundred to this hot car, we can get somethin' gone If we catch one or two of they ass danglin, they can't talk no more I can tell he never shot that gun or shit, i might just need that hoe Jump tough and we gon' take his fuckin' soul, for now, he can keep that though He ain't no opp, we send him about his way, we ain't gon' hurt lil' folks He is a opp, he meet the heaven gates, and he get a shirt to go Can't put no button on them newest gens, i don't want no glock no more He wifed a eat, i laughed, he talkin' bout that bitch, ain't no thot no more Now i'm on kedzie with lil' dellly, we helpin' tete fix her nose She ask me why i'm never home i'm gettin' this baking soda sold Just sold my bitch at c.c, she bought chanelly for us both I had a phase of poppin' ggs with the 30's, i mixed them both I watch her shake her ass with all her friends, like it's my favorite show He finna crash out for that hoe, but won't even tag a nigga toe That nigga ain't know i sold him soap still added a hundred to my roll Still catchin' a b if he touch my chain And you still gotta watch for that back door Still got steel, just chill lil bro Still in the field, tryna get rich, though She went through my phone, look at my wrist, though I like 'em petite, i don't want a big hoe They say i'm unique, like i didn't know, dog down your street in a black range rover I get fly like i'm super grover Three hundred black sound like a explosion She don't want me, the bitch want exposure I'm tryna see if my homie 'nem know her I'm tryna see if i'm right and she goin Run up on glo, send him right to the lord I don't walk or talk a lot, my phone keep ringin, bail in car I serve some p's and hit some blocks, fifteen was sellin' nickel rocks Diamond chain dancin, plain watch, yeah, i can fight, but i won't box But i'ma star, you gon' get popped, she tryna give me head and swap I'm tryna get my head, get lost, they send pop shots, then we gon' toss When our block hot, we don't go home Still in the projects, on the phone with hoes If we all put a hundred to this hot car We can get somethin' gone If we catch one or two of they ass danglin, they can't talk no more
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