C-Sick - 500 Homicides lyrics

[Intro] Oh! These n***as ain't gangstas Stay tryna take my lil homie off the streets huh Free 'Nine b**h! We still got real n***as out here (so everybody gangsta now huh?) Where you from n***a? Free the guys man, you ain't from where we from I told my n***as we gon' make it man It's a f**ing movement man We a f**ing family, we ain't a gang OTF, (SQUAD!) [Verse 1] These n***as is b**hes, getting info from b**hes Go and tell to the piggies I'm tryna get riches, and stay on that business Free bro, n***as snitching My case almost over, you lucky one pending I put 2 in his lemon, this 4-5 a lemon Extended clip for his n***as And he ain't sh** to his n***as We don't hesitate, from Dede and Bebe just know that the opps ain't never safe Load up the Glock, and reload the 8 Do a drill on the op, no clones I see dots ACGs for the God's church and one power rock I'm on the block Hope my tape don't flop, and it go gold when it drop I'm not a liar, start D'ing them baggies, and we risking indictment Just to get flier than the first day ticket, united 300, the riot Murder murder, k** k**, in the jam I'll never squeal My label only time I deal I f** with G's, B's, Moes, Kings, Snakes, 4's and the n***as under kneel Silver spoon, you don't know how hunger feel Dreaming 'bout 100 mil, step on that curb with 100 pills Western Union money to bro and them, in the cell doing 20 years And I lost a couple of these n***as, and they ain't never seen 20 years, oh! Bro died when I was out of town, sh** happened I'm not around Slide through every opp block and we up shots till they not around What's up with this twitter beef? Thought we was keepin' it in the streets? They mad I'm in the winner seat, from the summer time 'till winter breeze And choppa squeeze, b**h go blaat, blaat, blaat! I ain't even gotta rap, (rap, rap) Rex nem in the trap (trap, trap) One time no light bulb, bro n em got a lamp, (lamp, lamp) Where you from you ain't stamped (stamp, stamp) n***as know we the champ (champ, champ) Got n***as sneak dissin', it ain't rap Make a real n***a gotta spit facts Got some n***as saying keep it only rap That's how these old n***as stay on the map Headshot, we ain't getting into that n***as tellin' hands full of pens and pads Grab a pack, blood bleeding real bad Doin' hit in a coupe, in a Range, or an Audi f** a n***a doubt me All on my dick when they see me Knowing this b**h wanna be me Hell yea you can die over a retweet I'm grabbing my pole on mimi I can't see a n***a like Stevie I won't tell, I'll take me a BG Let's get it! GANG! [Instrumental break]