Loot
Black Smurf, $uicideBoy$, Ramirez
Robbers, they hang in the hood
Where they ride clean
Stang, stangin' like a bumblebee
With my 45 G-L-O-C
Robbers, they hang in the hood
Where they ride clean
Stang, stangin' like a bumblebee
With my 45 G-L-O-C
Robbers, they hang in the hood
Where they ride clean
Stang, stangin' like a bumblebee
With my 45 G-L-O-C
I got money on my mind, bitch
I'm blinded by the dollar signs
I'll work a fucking nine-to-five instead
Of signin' dotted lines by nine-to-five
I mean I've come to paint the town grey
With five fucking 9s
I'm tryna take what's mine
Which happens to be everythin' that I see
Might be selfish of me
But if I don't pick a side
Someone else is gettin' cash and pine
Dine and dash, scraps is rationed
Slash and gash, scratchin' rashes
Catchin' rats and slash it's throat, end up
Like a maxi pad, soaked
2-11, one-eight-seven
Send them bustas straight to heaven
If that nigga talkin' shit
Then he gon' meet my Smith & Wesson
Creepin' out the fucking darkness
Smurkin' all these bustas, ho
Fucking with the Devil, son, I
Rolls up on the flames, fo' sho'
Psychopathic lunatic
I'm looking for a soul to steal
I put that Glock up to yo' grill
And watch yo' punk ass fucking squeal
Look into my eyes
See the thang that burns inside
Fuckin' with that triple six, nigga
This shall be your demise
Robbers, they hang in the hood
Where they ride clean
Stang, stangin' like a bumblebee
With my 45 G-L-O-C
Robbers, they hang in the hood
Where they ride clean
Stang, stangin' like a bumblebee
With my 45 G-L-O-C
Robbers, they hang in the hood
Where they ride clean
Stang, stangin' like a bumblebee
With my 45 G-L-O-C
Haven't had to kill yet
But I was born a murderer
Triple six my nation
I'm the red devil's chosen one
Break in through the back
Give a fuck 'bout your burglar bars
When I was seventeen
Remember when we would burgle cars
My favorite gun that 45, I love how it bust
Smoke leakin' out your chest
Body stuffed in the trunk
I'm ridin' round in Hollygrove
Best believe I got that strap
Can't fuck with you bitches
But Oddy got my back
Still on that killa' klan
Creep up behind shit memphis made a nigga
So you know I'm used to violence
I'll fill ya up with slugs, come play a thug
Automatic to his chest
Have him coughin' up a lung
Catch a blast, might for the cash
It be ya' ass
Think fast for that four fifth
Lay ya' in the grass
One-shot, turned into ash, so quick and fast
No joke, my nigga's soaked, stay out my path
Nigga
Robbers, they hang in the hood
Where they ride clean
Stang-stangin' like a bumblebee with
My 45 G-L-O-C robbers, they hang in the hood
Where they ride clean
Stang-stangin' like a bumblebee with
My 45 G-L-O-C robbers, they hang in the hood
Where they ride clean
Stang-stangin' like a bumblebee with
My 45 G-L-O-C
Written by: Aristos Petrou, Ivan Ramirez, John Crawford, Scott ArcenauxLyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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