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aftrr! - fiftysix lyrics
[chorus: aftrr!]
ha, 56 round mag, i’m totin’ my gunna
keep it 100 just like my drumma
fly out to new york then back for the summer
i keep a toolie, you get shot, you done up
my choppa heat up, it turn to a sauna
turn to a track star with money, i run up
shawty, she f_ckin wit me on the come up
ha, 10 on my wrist, benjamin pocket
that boy he f_cked up, put him on a locket
i keep a fn and .9 by my rocket
you causin’ problems, then i’ma go solve it
i up the chop, make ’em wig split, huh
got 2 glocks screamin’ like misfits huh
f_ck around, get downed, now he missin’, huh
ex_b_tch on my line, say she missin’ us, uh
[verse 1: aftrr!]
yeah, six shooter, .357, uh
wock in my cup, that’s my beverage, uh
i’m in the cut with a bad b_tch, uh
she wanna f_ck with my balenciaga
ten_tail mink coat, feelin’ like madara
i keep a chop on my, huh, yeah
i got a chop on my hip, it’s tucked
i up the sprayer ’cause i cannot f_ck with rats
i’m on the top now, that b_tch she want some of that
i’m on eleven, my choppa got double tap
brodie just sent me some beats like, “you f_ck with that?”
30 my pocket, he get popped like bubble wrap
that boy not shooting sh_t, he play with rubber caps
make like 10 racks and then go back and double that
fly out, take a trip, roundtrip, like a cul_de_sac
[verse 2: rans0m]
50 round mag, we gon’ let it loose
you a cop, you a square just like a cube
you are not him, you are not that dude
you are not him, you are not that guy
kept on making jokes so we sent him to the sky
give a f_ck about a b_tch ’cause my eyes on the prize
wanna gamble your life, well, i’ll give you a die
he tryna gamble his life, that boy die
just copped a plane, oh my god, i can fly
he claim he my brother, well, i knew he would switch sides
i could tell that that boy lied
[verse 3: visions]
step in the party and you know you ruin it
rans0m and aftrr!, we motherf_ckin’ doing it
.556 and we shoot him like a donut
yeah that boy a fat f_ck, yeah he eatin’ donuts
pull up with frost’d, we shoot up your section
that boy all up on my d_ck want a mention
pain, deliver pain like it’s fedex
choppa make that boy lean back like a headrest, yeah
shoot him like a movie on the screen
this sh_t explicit not clean
my shootas red, yeah, they mean
he need a donor he bleed
red, he leakin’ red
that boy an opp, nah, that boy a fed
i said f_ck graphite, hit him with lead
we shoot his body, that boy do the pledge (yeah, yeah)
[chorus: aftrr!]
ha, 56 round mag, i’m totin’ my gunna
keep it 100 just like my drumma
fly out to new york then back for the summer
i keep a toolie, you get shot, you done up
my choppa heat up, it turn to a sauna
turn to a track star with money, i run up
shawty, she f_ckin wit me on the come up
ha, 10 on my wrist, benjamin pocket
that boy he f_cked up, put him on a locket
i keep a fn and .9 by my rocket
you causin’ problems, then i’ma go solve it
i up the chop, make ’em wig split, huh
got 2 glocks screamin’ like misfits huh
f_ck around, get downed, now he missin’, huh
ex_b_tch on my line, say she missin’ us, uh
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