Young M.A – OG Bobby Johnson (Freestyle) lyrics

[Intro]
M.A, nigga!
Yes, Brooklyn!
Red Life, whattup?
Pack, nigga! Hanh!

[Verse]
Y'all packin' and cockin' and poppin' your pistol
I hear you, I get you (yeah I hear you)
But I'm loadin' them rockets
I'm shootin' them missiles and aimin' at tissues
Infra-red beam with a scope on top
So you know I won't miss you (nah I won't)
You a lame nigga, so your niggas won't miss you
Shit, they can go with you
My bullets rainin', shit don't even drizzle
My shit is official 'cause my shit'll lift you
My niggas don't tell, we don't talk to officials (nah)
Or the police or the people who whistle (no rat, nigga!)
No snitchin', no rattin', no tellin'
No, no, no, no—none of that shit (none of that shit)
But we do hold shotties that put holes in bodies
Make niggas do back flips
It's Red Life, nigga, we 'bout that action
Pumpin' that ratchet
Bullets go Boop! Boop! Boop!
Right through your packin', now you collapsin'
Bang bang, nigga!
Yo, Danger, tell 'em it's pain gang, nigga
I been doin' this shit, my name rain, nigga
My brother was a Blood, I don't gang bang, nigga
My dyke-ass bitches made a lot of dykes mad
I don't care 'cause I love the hate
Wasn't even gon' drop him
I was gon' wait 'til April, but shit, I ain't wanna wait (man, fuck 'em!)
Some niggas was hatin'
Some niggas respected, the bitches they loved it
Some dykes couldn't take it
It hurt 'em so bad they was sick to they stomach
My young niggas thuggin'
They rob you in public and tell you to run it (gimme that!)
Put that thing to your stomach
And tell you be quite and better say nothin' (hold that!)
No respect for these niggas
Pull out the choppa, we wettin' these niggas
You, you, you, and the rest of these niggas
Better pray to God 'cause it's death for these niggas
I'm a threat to these niggas
'Cause when my shit drop it's effectin' these niggas
Every time I'm in the booth I'm upsettin' these niggas
But tell 'em pull through, I got a TEC for these niggas (brrrat!)
Ever since my brother died
Yeah my mind ain't really been right
That's why I got this 9
If you get out of line you'll be callin' for Christ (Amen!)
'Cause if I don't kill you
I'll make sure that you'll never walk in your life (again, nigga)
We fuck niggas up
But my niggas is shooters, my niggas don't fight
I'll take your bitch and I'll fuck her that night
Your bitch ain't faithful, I'm fuckin' your wife
I'm fuckin' her right, your bitch is a freak
You should see what she do
When we turn off them lights (she a thot, nigga!)
You bitches is trife but
Nigga, you wifed her, I really didn't like her (I ain't like her!)
I just wanted to pipe her
And put my strap in it eight inches inside her
And for these pussy-ass niggas
I got another strap that would put eight inside ya
Ah, that nina my bitch
She do not miss and I love how she grip
When she get cocked she be poppin' at lips
I love how her handle get hot in my fist
Ohhh, that nina, that nina
That little bitch, man, would fuck the whole scene up
Nut on the track, I was fuckin' this beat up
Fucked it so good I done bust through the speakers
Tell these niggas to keep up
These dykes wanna be her
When niggas hear my shit, they be like:
"She the shit, yeah the rap game need her!"