[Verse: Kyle Richh] She a baddie, I gotta get on that, d^^n She a thot, I can’t kiss her My b^^ch a gun, I be feenin’ the clicker Like she be geekin’ and tweaked off the liquor Wait, put the d^^k in her liver New opp, s^^t kick like a punt OD’d off a pen, now he dead in my blunt Man down, put that boy in a trunk If I spot him, I turn him to runtz, oh my god, what happened to— Big gun, I’m a ooter like Melo, like she Caribbean, shake it like Jell-O He ain’t drill with us, he cannot sit with us Opp pack got me feelin’ ridiculous Pour up the Tris’, don’t resist, tell her, “Fill it up” F^^k a b^^ch, I can chill with a million Fish bowl, put a holе in the V Please do not lack bеcause s^^t can get serious He a runner, too fast like furious, Glock with a beam, I’ma put him to sleep, d^^n On court like a Piston, quick draw, I got PTSD She let me hit it in different positions Like, feel like thirty, I’m ootin from deep Pop a thirty, I can’t go to sleep B^^ch, I’m bustin’, might take off his muffin How is you tough? You was runnin’ and duckin’, this G23, get to markin’ like Cousins And I’m in the locker room buzzin’ But these b^^ches be keeyin’ my vibe She wanna link ’cause she see that I’m high Like with the dotty, my vision is fly Fake love, I don’t know who to trust, what? These n^^gas fake, get away from me How you here for me? You wasn’t there for me Told my mama, ”I need you to pray for me” I said, ”Brother, my music my therapy” I’ma be top one charted I’m a demon, I oot through the darkness, f^^k everybody, this life with me heartless, d^^n [Part II – 4life Freestyle]
[Intro: Jenn Carter] (Chee on the beat) (Zionthebeat) Look
[Verse: Jenn Carter] Lemme start like this Said you n^^gas is weird and your opps is your friends How your boyfriend a—, but he ask for a feature He tried to diss, but he makin’ amends I’ma set s^^t straight, said he 41K, he get sent to the gates Straight to the top Not a debate, they like ”Jenn you so lyrical, n^^gas is late”, Like We gon’ tear that boy like I’m a surgeon Shorty a baddie, she tell me ”It’s hurtin”’ And this music is more than just verses I’m really on timin’, I do it on purpose N^^gas talkin’, but that s^^t is digital F^^k with the opps and I can’t be a friend of you N^^gas dirty and they not original Feel like I’m Spike, when I’m shootin’, I’m visual Bullet’s gon’ make him invisible Don’t need a diss, but you fit the subliminal Brodie a demon, a criminal Sendin’ out shots and this s^^t is not clinical Feelin’ prolific, I shoot through the fabric I’m like Carter, I’m shootin’ with Magic Ain’t no bottle, but n^^gas be cappin’ You 41K, you get put in the past tense Like wait Like d^^n, when I walk in the party, she geekin’ and tweakin’ I just put shorty down for a drink She like, ”Jenny, you know that I’m feenin’ I be watchin’ your vids in a sequence” I got a heart and she said I could keep it We go back to her s^^t for a the weekend, but I gotta go Tata called up a demon [Part III – See Red]
[Verse 1: Tata] How you dissin’? Like four of yo’ homies is dead I send one of my n^^gas kill all of y’all n^^gas I see a opp then I see red With this pencil, fill ’em up with lead Bend through the opps I’m tryna catch ’em— (24 is the GOAT) How you smokin’ my dead and I don’t got no dead They know my bop, Mr. Everything Dead She wanna come over I left her on read N^^gas p^^sy I’m a veteran, n^^gas is rookies Big knocker, can’t book me Walk in the party and I got them lookin’ N^^gas be runnin’ they mouth on the media I run into n^^gas, yeah, it’s lit B^^ches be gettin’ ahead of they self I don’t care if you pretty, s^^k my d^^k, glah I’m with Lato, rollin’ up Gelato N^^gas p^^sy and opp n^^gas follow They know it’s forty-one ways to get paid I got a baddie, she look like Mulatto With the legs, drinkin’ Henny, no chaser B^^ches dumb if she think I’m a— Don’t wanna f^^k, on bro, I won’t make her Beam through his face if he play with my Ayo bro, boom that n^^ga Walk in the spot, remove that n^^ga I’m not in the politicin’ or the media Ain’t no talkin’, boom that n^^ga, glah 41, I’m promotin’ the violence, spinnin’ through ready, I got n^^gas hidin’ And ya’ n^^gas not really on timin’ Call up my Muddy, he stay on my timin’, glah Shorty got wap like Fetty Bread winner, I love to get bready They know my bop, Mr. Everything Deady And shots to the eye, now he lookin’ like Fetty, b^^ch
[Verse 2: Jenn Carter] I be geekin’, I totin’ on what? Shorty a thottie, she don’t give a f^^k She be tweakin’, she shakin’ her butt And that boy is a cheetah, the way that he run He dumb, he a pot B^^ch on my body, she totin’ my gun You run, don’t stop You feelin’ hot, you get sent to the sun He tried to diss and we made him deleted 41 and we still undefeated Get on the scene, make it hotter than phoenix Michael Jackson, she want me to beat it She a baddie and shorty conceited I told her I love her, but I do not mean it I be geekin’, I only see red She like ”Jenny, you know that—” And you know that I’ma keep me a tool It stay right by my side, call me Nicki Minaj, d^^n Think he tough, now he in a garage Rollin’ up while she give a massage I’m too active, I turn up the spot He think he tough, he got sold in the block Please don’t try to be somethin’ you not I’m like a cheff and I’m stirrin’ the— If he think he a demon, we ain’t showin’ no sympathy Like d^^n, bullets is slippery I told n^^gas to get out the way You and yo’ homie get shot in the face I be geekin’, you cannot get rid of me Shorty be tweakin’ and knock off— If you not 41, better stay in your place Like, call me Tay-K, I’m runnin’ the race
[Intro: Kyle Richh] Glah Glah
[Verse: Kyle Richh] With a .30, I feel like the man I do not fight, so don’t come with a pole Like don’t lack, this s^^t no joke Too many guns, I don’t know where to blow Like, try to run, that’s a ticket to death My b^^ch a baddie, she click it the best Like, she a freak, put the d^^k in her face Oot at his feet, make ’em pick up the pace Roll up the dotty, that s^^t got me laced Like I be buggin’, don’t know how to act, what? Everything said, no dap Shorty a thottie, I’m all in her back Like, I don’t touch, s^^t got a kick, like Beam on the blick, can’t miss He not a shooter, he oot in my spliff Like keep a Lilo, I cannot get Stich He dead, stop all that twitch Free my brothers, I know they won’t snitch Like, like, what? I’ma get strange Ooter got aim, like limitless range, like Please do not get me upset My b^^ch a baddie, she click it the best, d^^n Like what? Like what? B^^ch, glah, glah, glah
[Part V – War Freestyle]
[Intro: Tata] Glah (Chee on the beat) Glah, glah
[Verse: Tata] Oh he want war? Let’s do it Man that n^^ga a b^^ch, I see through him They know Mikey a demon, he ready I pass him the knocker and brodie gon’ what? They know my body, the knock on my body She be feenin’ to s^^k on my body N^^ga a dummy, can’t go out like who? Everything deady n^^ga, who gon’—? Everything dead, put the dot on his chest Only head shots, don’t invest in a— Aim like a cop, goin’ ku with the tech Catch him and cut him and put out his chest They know I’m a stepper They can’t step with me, big 41, I know I can’t get stopped Jay, my brother, he throw up the dub If I say, ”Oot that n^^ga” He gon’ flock Don’t be a dummy and die wit ya’ knocks He ain’t tough, only tough with his knocks Please don’t run, two beams on the Glock Bad lil’ b^^ch, got aim like a— Walk in the party, they b^^ch on my body That’s probably why n^^gas don’t like me It get scary, I put on my Shiesty I don’t politic, please don’t fight me Wait too oppy, how can I lack? Bro on a go, but these n^^gas is trash It gon’ get scary, I pass it Cash Ain’t no hesi’, she a ooter like what? Know I’ma bug out, I’ma spazz When the opps playin’ defence, they lack She call me daddy, I am not her dad .40 gon’ hit him, make his mama sad, b^^ch Bro totin’ on KD, I’m totin’ on Jackie Big 41, gangnem jack me When I see the opps, I get happy Lato got the ‘lato, Jenny got the gat Shorty a demon, I pass it to Knocker Keep my gun, I ain’t goin’ out sadly Don’t know who did it, I don’t know who shot him He got a head tap, I was cappy, b^^ch
[Outro: Tata, Kyle Richh & Jenn Carter] Everything dead 4-1 shots to the head like d^^n All the opps is dead Dead, dead, dead Dead, dead, dead It’s Carter, dickhead
This is the end of “How You Dissing Like 4 Of Your Homies Is Dead Lyrics”.
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