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bandmanrill - psa lyrics
[intro:]
ayy, woah
it’s f_ckin’ bandman, you heard?
y’all n_ggas stop cappin’, god i swear
n_ggas really broker than broke
talk, talk, on bro
talk, talk, on bro
talk, talk, on bro
ayy, on bro, on bro, on bro
[verse:]
geeked up, sh_t takin’ me out
tell ice spice come back to the south
do what you want, lemme’ take you out
bandman, know what i’m about
folks tryna’ diss, tryna’ get him a clout
i never seen him, what that sh_t about?
he talkin’ dumb, it’s a punch in the mouth
i keep a gun, but i’m on the pills
in my hood i’m hated the most
i cannot give her no bookbag
n_ggas be goofy, and they be doin’ the most
big boy, where yo’ hood at?
b_tches be booty, and they be droppin’ the lo’
look on my side, where i’m good at
it get spooky, and i got a lotta dope, make them lil’ n_ggas [?]
ayy, hol’on, look, ayy
act like you don’t understand
what n_ggas sayin’? know my n_ggas ran
just be real, n_ggas they be fans
atm, betta’ getcha’ mans
‘fore my n_ggas make them scram
take out a weapon, n_gga, i’m a man
i been the richest since i used to scam
don’t gotta’ flex, can run through the fans
ode de la apes, he ain’t makin’ profit
he in the hood, bro needa’ stop it
she pop d_ck, drawers get to lockin’
‘fore i did music, used to get it poppin’
hand some action, talkin’ while he drivin’
gang in the party, gripped, and we rockin’
she got some b_tches gettin’ right behind it
she got me tatted, cuttin’ too much [?]
n_ggas be lyin’ to they bros and hoes
they must wanna’ beef, go grab yo’ pole
my bro tryna’ get him a head tap, not just tryna’ take a n_ggas soul
‘fore i go run up a bag off a ap, b_tch, i ain’t never had to hit a stove
in this club, sh_t, i’m like jay_z, free bro, he the hood hov’
my n_ggas know i love all the bros
these n_ggas ain’t tough, n_gga, you just drove
she a bop, take my soul
she eat d_ck while we on the road
tryna’ throw in a amg, i’m gettin’ sick and tired of the rolls
tryna’ wild in a amg, i’m gettin’_ look (ayy), look (ayy), look
chi’ wit’ me, he a creeper
new forces, make you crease ’em
might f_ck, that lil’ sh_t decent
got a thing for my b_tch peaches
her man delaney hall, lemme’ f_ck, like he don’t need her
lil’ b_tch been f_ckin’ the gang, you ain’t know that b_tch a eater
glizzy’ll hit him, you know how we do
i wish my n_gga was here in the booth
n_ggas be mad i be sayin’ the truth
and i got in the booth, but what i look like, you?
i was 18, f_ckin’ them grown b_tches
all the old n_ggas, they be blue
all this “opp this,” all this “opp that”
needa’ stop that, n_ggas fu’
go get some money ‘fore a n_gga die
i don’t wanna have to make a mother cry
throwin’, i had to send him to allah
i put that on bro, my n_ggas, they gon’ ride
don’t got the money, you could never hide
i got enough money, get you n_ggas fried
don’t got the money, you could never hide
got enough money, get you n_ggas fried
ayy
[outro:]
ayy, look
[?] hide
ayy, look
got enough money, you could never hide
ayy, on bro
got enough money, you could never hide
got enough money, get you n_ggas fried
got enough money, get you n_ggas fried, ayy
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