Lethal Weapon

[Verse 1: DexKrueger]
Look, field trips, not in fifth grade, but I take those
Been on quite a few in my time, I plan to take more
Check the score, nobody on your side known to let it blow
But get up on the 'net and try to boast, you know how that shit go
Duck and roll, when I come through you better duck and roll
If you don't, it's consequences, you get your pumpkin scoped
Beef with me, more consequences, you get your cousin smoked
Who said I'm broke? Boy, that must've been a fuckin' joke
I don't go broke, I just hit the field and got me another loaf
And said I was done tryna pimp, went and found another ho
Went down for the bip, but I went and bopped another load
Two straps, dressed like Jehovah in front your mother door
It's treacherous, grab them super soakers and get to drenchin' shit
My nigga got them bodies, cold killer but never mentioned it
You let the bitch go 'cause she's a ho, but you still miss the bitch
Dick down your bitch throat and your bitch swallowed, I watched you kiss the bitch
Stupid lil' human
You know the main code and you still told, why you do it?
You see me, you keep it movin'
Free them innocent three who went down for that shootin', nigga

[Interlude: DexKrueger]
Ayy, look, man, I wasn't even gon' keep it lit, man
Ayy, look, I was gon' let you niggas breathe
I was gon' take my foot off you niggas' necks, man
But my niggas told me keep this shit rockin'
So I'ma keep this shit rockin' for my niggas, man
Ayy, look, look

[Verse 2: DexKrueger]
I said I'm back in, if he try to run, blow his back in
Knock his head off his shoulders, got him lookin' like he Pac-Man
I just stacked ten, in a minute I might start trappin'
I ain't never been to Green Bay, but you know I run that pack in
Mop, mop, mop
That's the sound of that thang when I'm yankin' on that chop
He pilin' thirty, thirty shots
Fuck that lil' thirty stick, this FN came twenty stock
When he seen it, he was amazed, this bitch'll blow him out his socks
Already ate today, but get to chewin' at the opps
And I'm a nigga with a bag, that's everything you niggas not
And all that Hollywood actin', boy, that shit had better stop
'Cause I ain't actin' with the Glock, I get active with the Glock
Send that bitch and shoot it this way, I got tackles with the Glock
Plus I'm Mr. Keep-Stick, and I'm known to keep a Glock
But this baby XD came brand nookie out the box

[Verse 3: Yatta]
Brand nookie out the box, niggas shootin' down the block
Broad day, trynna leave a nigga kufi on they block
Nigga, I ain't 'bout to box, whip it out, let off some shots
Niggas fuckin' with the opps, playin' both sides'll get him popped
Slide to the trap, me and Nick hit for twenty cash
We was already up ten, that's twenty thousand, do the math
I got bitches shakin' ass, I like bitches with no class
And I'm player as fuck, baby, I won't trip, you fuck my mans
That don't mean I ain't tryna fuck, bitch, I still wanna stab
Put my finger in her butt while she in the three-point stance
She know the word to every song, guess I'm finna fuck my fan
And her sister dig me too, so I'ma keep it in the fam'
We just bipped another load, sticky chicky had them band bands
We just kicked another door, sticky chicky had them gram grams
Bitch, I always play the field, I ain't never in the damn stands
Bitch, I had hella cases, I ain't never took the damn stand
Bitch, it's the Don Dada, I'ma stand on what I said
Nigga, I ain't squashin' shit, I ain't throwin' no white flags
Nigga play, get him bagged, in the pen', I get him stabbed
These niggas really think I'm a rapper, better check my street cred'
Before I was known for a verse, I was gettin' niggas stepped on
Found the nigga who killed my brother, shit, y'all know how the rest go
Gun shells in his face, give a fuck he had a vest on
Nigga, this no cap, I ain't just rhyming for no damn song, nigga (For real, nigga)

[Interlude: Yatta]
For real, nigga
We been steppin' on niggas, nigga
This shit ain't new

[Verse 4: Yatta]
I run that sack in
Chase a nigga down, blow his back in
Just left Harry Potter in the 'Nolia, I'm in the Point ditching Pac-Man
White people on my dick, they hate a young paid black man
They know I'm fightin' in the 'jects, I keep a gun, can't let 'em jack me
Knock, knock, knock
That's me knockin' on your door before I'm breaking in your spot
You hollerin' thirty, thirty shots
Fuck that lil' thirty stick, I threw a drummy on this chop
When we slide, we want a homi', even the driver bouncin' out
Bitch, my niggas known killers, we known for chasin' niggas down
Give two fucks who get hit, bitch, I'm airin' out the crowd
Bitch, I'm really with the shits, go everywhere I'm not allowed
Doin' donuts in the six-speed, turn the 'jects to a sideshow
Nigga, I ain't hard to find, but I'm hard to kill, I keep that fire on
I'm in traffic with that static, I ain't duckin' shit but five-o
Got used to that bag, account assault him with a blindfold
That nigga really don't want no body, nigga shootin' with his eyes closed
'Fore you reach for this chain, you need to think, this somethin' to die for?

[Outro: Yatta]
Nigga
For real, nigga
Yeah
Free the thugs, nigga