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42 dugg & est gee - ice talk lyrics
[intro: est gee]
yeah, yeah (uh, uh)
yeah, yeah (uh)
[verse 1: est gee]
who got the ups on us? (who got ups on us?)
strap across your shirt, like, n_gga, buckle up (h_lluva made this beat, baby)
you can’t miss, i send you on that hit, might die, you f_ck it up
clip hold got like t trimmers, real street n_gga, my money up
wave this b_tch like, “hey, what’s up?”
soon as fat boy get close enough
n_ggas don’t want bump, they punks, on ig, hope i post ’em up
i talk to them bodies late at night when i be rollin’ up
[verse 2: 42 dugg]
they know it’s us
gone with all that flaggin’, b_tch, you braggin’, now i choke on bruh
.40, that’s the caliber, the magazine is seventeen
i got this from medellín, eighteen timеs thirty_three
i hope he ain’t sellin’ drеams, might go back to mailin’ ki’s
i don’t want no good b_tch, make dugg b_tch a felon, please
[verse 3: est gee]
my wrist methamphetamine, you know this that ice talk
hop out on foot, let pipe off, yellow tape, white chalk
ot, gettin’ this ice off
four hundred mails, every country town around, we beat it down
used to bag up pieces, sittin’ up east listenin’ to “wipe me down”
[verse 4: 42 dugg & est gee]
i know they don’t like me now, your brother, sister, cousin
feds ever hit the house, put my sh_t in the oven
they get cheaper by the dozen
roster grew to a monster
we blow them choppers, b_tch
i don’t know my alphabets
tell me, what come after rich?
play with us, we whackin’ sh_t, claimin’ sh_t, and stampin’ sh_t
f_ck y’all (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
[verse 5: est gee]
these n_ggas don’t want beef with us, they ig k!llers
we bendin’ blocks in three rentals, i don’t see n_ggas
keep drillin’, b_tch, we breed k!llers
we elite spinners
big shiner, keep his heat with him, eat and sleep with it
[verse 6: 42 dugg]
wake up, b_tch won’t f_ck the youngin from the front, go get that makeup
to make sure all my n_ggas had a piece, i took a pay cut
ho gon’ put this ‘partment in her name, you need some pay stubs
i’m crankin’ my fake drugs, four_hundred in eight months
ten with me like eight stuffed
the driver like my idol, that’s the only b_tch i can’t touch
these n_ggas is not me, these n_ggas is not gee
got blow pack, got roxys
got weed stems and boxed gin, i’m top ten
[verse 7: est gee]
yeah, go catch one and get locked in
got out of line and get knocked in
in my city, i’m top ten
number one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine
with a white boy snortin’ h lines
in the side county, n_ggas can’t find
with a .45 on my waistline
like f_ck n_ggas, i’m lit now
crossed over, i’m big slime
i’m still slidin’, i’m rich now
everybody gotta pick sides
took a risk to hold up my wrist high
my lil’ brother took six lives
he a lil’ n_gga but look 6’5″
can the opps say they didn’t hide?
yeah`
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