No Suburban, Pt. 2

Ayy, ayy Gang, gang, gang Shoot with the gang, gang, gang Load it, then bang, bang, bang Bang, gang, gang Gang, gang Gang, gang, gang, gang (Great John on the beat by the way) Look, huh Niggas like, "Sheff, you be movin' too hot You got nothin' to prove, you the king of this shit" 'Member days postin' the .30s inside of the Glock? I was itchin' to move on a lick Niggas be talking real hot for the 'net But they see me in person, they all on my dick I got they hearts in my pocket, no bully But I could be bullyin' whole lotta shit Look, push me to the limit Let's see who really tryna get it, okay Push me to the limit And let's see who really, really with it Don't see no Suburbans, who spinnin'? (Don't see no Suburbans, who spinnin'? Them niggas is lyin') Don't see no Suburbans, who spinnin'? Don't see no Suburbans, who spinnin'? Look He got a black flag, nigga, take it off You get shot down if you play his songs I keep a Glock 'round, I would let it off This a diss track, this is not a song I got 'em thinkin' its voodoo I'ma King Corso you poodles I been in the field like manure Can't talk on my name, 'cause I'll prove it I'm feelin' like, feelin' like who really want it? You niggas my sons, I ain't feel like abortin' again Niggas can't mention no money I double the offer and you know it's off with his head Just pass me the chop, lemme fold 'em Me by myself, I'll do it to you Run up, get dirt up, on M8V3N Me by myself, I'll give it to you Niggas like, "Sheff, you be movin' too hot You got nothin' to prove, you the king of this shit" 'Member days postin' with .30s inside of the Glock? I was itchin' to move on a lick Niggas be talking real hot for the 'net But they see me in person, they all on my dick I got their hearts in my pocket, no bully But I could be bullyin' whole lotta shit Look, push me to the limit Let's see who really tryna get it, okay Push me to the limit And let's see who really, really with it Don't see no Suburbans, who spinnin'? (Don't see no Suburbans, who spinnin'? Them niggas is lyin') Don't see no Suburbans, who spinnin'? Don't see no Suburbans, who spinnin'? Look, look Lyin' in they raps for the clout Heard that boy a snitch, fish 'em out Boy, I got the wave, you in drought Reason why my dick in they mouth No this ain't dance music, nigga (I buss a bop, I don't dance) No, this ain't chill music, nigga (I'm tryna drill, I want 'em dead) Huh, this for the streets, so fuck your say Don't care if this don't get no radio play Huh, bang on any who play My flow so sick for any who hate, huh Oh, you tryna buss matas Shots spin him, that's bachata I stand over niggas and buh, blacka The king, no, I'm da masa, nigga M8V3N, M8V3N gang Shoota, shoota (don't see no Suburbans, who spinnin'?) That's shoota gang, shoota gang-gang-gang-gang (Don't see no Suburbans, who spinnin'?) M8V3N, M8V3N gang Shoota, shoota (don't see no Suburbans, who spinnin'?) That's shoota gang (don't see no Suburbans, who spinnin'?) Shoota gang-gang-gang-gang Shoota gang-gang-gang Bang, bang, load it the bang, bang, bang Gang, gang I need to hear that again