Popper Gang - You Probably Won't Like It lyrics

[VERSE 1: MR.COATHANGER] This time it's different, I'm runnin like I'm in the Olympics Im comin' after you, gunnin' you down with hollow tips Extended clip on my hip for the fo' fifth There's expectations in this clique here's the rubric All you gotta do is respect the crew b**h Why you backin' down? Gotta rearrange your tactics We just be chillin' getting higher then a fork lift You count your money thinking you a mathematician Come threw the front door n k** you in your kitchen You probably should of listened Then you wouldn't be sinkin' What the f** was you thinking Rest in the open, rest in the ocean You forever floatin, constantly in motion My lyrics are potent, make the track have 4 kids And you already know b**h back to the slow sh** Pour me another fo' I sip it until its gone Sit back chillin' I'm a villain on the low And I get it from the women that be dealin' on the low Click clack nina and the heater go BOW And it shoot so loud that it wake the whole town In the middle of the crowd with a body on the ground Like…. Wow Point the gun to the people that be standin' in my way Run faster then I ever have, I gotta get away Find a place that I can stay Camp out for a couple days Occasionally come out to blaze f** it, I been chillin' for a while now Comin' out from hidin' I gotta different style now BUT I didn't really wanna murder the competition and AND I didn't stick the script that I been keepin' but I'm pretty sure in the long run people will listen This Mr.Coathanger n' I'm out so quit ya b**hin' [VERSE 2: JESSE TURVEY] I know you probably won't like this sh** But you better get to knowin' it just like your kid Better get to knowin' it just like your b**h We be racin' to the top paving roads and sh** Soon to be ownin' most of things thats important When it comes to my flow its ocean I'm Swimmin' in thoughts of potent I'm Barely sleeping on the regular it's terrible I Never pictured sh** like this without a camera I'm smokin' cereal bowls Man that sh** go Snap, Crackle, Pop ! When I'm punchin the cones It's no boxing' I get the sh** poppin' Mayweather you like it or not this is dropping With your body hit the ground Ya I saw that sh** around the f**in' corner Mr.Coathanger shot ya down You hear the round, fear the scream Fear the sound I ain't even got a heater but the furnace pretty loud The beat a heater a theoretical heater I recommend a vest if this is come in out of your speakers And I ain't even conceited Believe in the weed I breathe And I see that we could be be doin' it better than all the veterans Ya, we cross the line like we Mexican No boarder rhymes on the low, I'm an alien Probably got a ufo in my mouth It's that Blunt Force Trauma, we smoking you out Got a hand full of grams and we handin' them out Because music is a drug and that's what I'm all about POPPER GANG