Go (feat. LuhRuss)

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Lilcee

3:05

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Go, I can't f*ck with these lil' bitches, man, I'm out of favors
Dope boy dreams, I got some gas and then I got some paper
Live the life they wanna fuckin' live, but this shit overrated
F*ck bout what you sayin', pull up to the yard and let it spray

Bitch, we don't play, yeah, cop a deuce
When I get that act, I mix with lemonade
Ain't talkin' juice, but these niggas yea backdoor, you like 2Pac gang
Niggas lame, NLB-5, that's my fuckin' game

Uh, uh, shit get tragic, huh, pop a fuckin' ten into a twenty into a thirty, huh
Out my fuckin' body, I'm a ghost and I'ma hunt you, huh
Turn yo' bitch around and I'ma f*ck her all you hear is
Bitch, I'm back again, nut up on yo' friends

Yeah, I hit her twice, but I don't even want that bitch
I like countin' chips, Ben frank, yeah, my bestie, we throw zips
Tell you, get in clipped, forty yard no dash, but you gon' dip
Dip, dip, dip
Run fast like a race, model bitches, nigga

F*ck em' all, then pass the game, treat these hoes just like a game
Gettin' high straight on the plane, why I say I love her
I don't love her, I'm just sick up in the  head on gang
Go, I can't f*ck with these lil' bitches, man, I'm out of favors

Don't boy dreams, I got some gas and then I got some paper
Live the life they wanna fuckin' live, but this shit overrated
F*ck bout what you sayin', pull up to the yard and let it spray
Bitch, We don't play, uh, yeah

Cop a deuce, when I get that act, I mix with lemonade
Ain't talkin' juice, but these niggas yea backdoor, you like 2Pac gang
Niggas lame, NLB-5, that's my fuckin' game
Nigga fried, try to touch my chain

I put in dirt for this fuckin' chain
In the rain, posted on that curve, I'm tryna make a name
Had my cup full of that syrup, this shit look like paint
I be with real niggas, you be with cap niggas
(Cap)
Try the game, I bet he step back, he gon' clap a nigga
Pops been askin' me why you came to the house without your fuckin' pistol
I said, hold on, pops niggas, hate, they know we ain't no average niggas
I'm drippy extra Clean, I pop my shit in skinny jeans

Ion have no enemies, I got dem ties, you kiddin' me
I ain't a waste energy, me and my blick got chemistry
Yea don't call me family, you annoying me
What's on my ass now ? Big dog, almighty

I'm the type of nigga if I eat, then everybody eat
I was by my lonely, now I got the cash on me
New tags on me, ain't nothin' cheap
You a real trap niggas, You a real trap star

Every time I put this shit on ya, you know I'm goin' hard
Any nigga tryna spin on me, then he won't make it far
You don't know who in that car, you just know we be dem boys
Pick him up and break him down, I don't even need help

All them hittas, man, get locked in like seatbelts
Whole gang full of B-stas, Talkin' down on me
Just tell them, catch up, Won't even add up
(Won't add Up)

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