21 Savage, Offset & Metro Boomin – Ghostface Killers (feat. Travis Scott)

[Chorus: Offset]
Automatic (auto), automatics, in the trunk
Shoot the maggots, shoot the maggots with the pump
Thot and addy (thot), love the Patek on my arm (Patek)
We got static (static), pussy nigga run your charm (hey)
Ghostface killers (killers), Wu-Tang, 21 news gang (news)
Drug dealers in the Mulsanne, at the top of the food chain (hey)
Trappin’ the cocaine (yeah), no gang, shooter with no name
We can play toll games, the whole gang, kick in your door man

[Verse 1: Offset]
Yeah, put on the Patek, poppin’ xannys, I’m an addict
Break the mattress with a baddie on the addy
Diamonds flashing, need some glasses for the flashing, yeah
Michael Jackson with this fashion, bitch I’m dabbin’, yeah
All of this shit on purpose got these bitches slurpin’
All your pockets on hurting, nigga you can be my servant
Go to the lot and young nigga don’t lease it, I purchase
After I cut off a thot I give her some money for service (here)
Wherever I go the whole gang gon’ go, yeah (gang)
You cannot tame the ho because you want fame for sure (tame)
You think that you rich ’cause you got a hundred or more
I got an over overload like I just sold my soul
I, pour up a four, a liter, I got the stripes, Adidas
I got a foreign mamacita and I been known to beat it (mama)
Niggas ain’t goin’ defeated, we get the guns immediate
Don’t burn in the coupe, it’s an Italy
These niggas is broke and it’s pitiful

[Chorus: Offset]
Automatic (auto), automatics, in the trunk
Shoot the maggots, shoot the maggots with the pump
Thot and addy (thot), love the Patek on my arm (Patek)
We got static (static), pussy nigga run your charm (hey)
Ghostface killers (killers), Wu-Tang, 21 news gang (news)
Drug dealers in the Mulsanne, at the top of the food chain (hey)
Trappin’ the cocaine (yeah), no gang, shooter with no name
We can play toll games, the whole gang, kick in your door man

[Verse 2: 21 Savage]
Yeah, Kim Jong, yeah big bombs (21)
Wonder Bread man, make your bitch lick crumbs (yeah)
Audemars Piguet flooded, got my wrist numb (bling)
Grab the hitstick, nigga tryna blitz some’
Dope boy, dope boy, I sell coke boy (21)
You broke ass rappers food, it’s a po boy (21)
Everybody the same, all these niggas sound alike (dick riders)
Fox 5 gang, turn you to a candlelight
Bitch boy I’m a mobster, shrimp in my pasta
Jamaican Don Dada, hang ’round the shottas
Mad Max nigga, yeah I hang with the killers (21)
Planet of the Apes, yeah I hang around gorillas (on god)
I got AK, SK, HK, broad day (21)
You a fuckboy, we ain’t with the horseplay (bitch)
Shrimp ass nigga, did you do your chores today? (21)
Do you wanna take a ride with the coroner today? (21)

[Chorus: Offset]
Automatic (auto), automatics, in the trunk
Shoot the maggots, shoot the maggots with the pump
Thot and addy (thot), love the Patek on my arm (Patek)
We got static (static), pussy nigga run your charm (hey)
Ghostface killers (killers), Wu-Tang, 21 news gang (news)
Drug dealers in the Mulsanne, at the top of the food chain (hey)
Trappin’ the cocaine (yeah), no gang, shooter with no name
We can play toll games, the whole gang, kick in your door man

[Verse 3: Travis Scott]
Drop from the heavens straight in the wild (yeah)
Trunk in the front, top gotta slide
Ride suicides, we keep this shit alive (yeah)
Jumping out the public houses, don’t you come outside
(Straight up)
Private status, tryna land the jet at Magic (how you goin’?)
Goin’ way up, on my way to cut through traffic (what you poppin’)
Pop the seal and pop the bean, I need the balance (pop it, pop it)
Bloody ass is what I’m seeing, it’s way too graphic
Watch your fingers ’cause the cactus dangerous (yeah)
Broke, you ain’t us, we don’t speak that language
On the couches
Tom Cruise, I’ma make her see, she snort a mountain
Rackades on the outfit will make her bounce it
Good drank my life yeah, CPR my pipe, yeah
Please need the energy, only got a night, yeah (it’s lit)
Nike boys, we don’t do three stripes (yeah)
I’m living for my niggas that do life, yeah

[Chorus: Offset]
Automatic (auto), automatics, in the trunk
Shoot the maggots, shoot the maggots with the pump
Thot and addy (thot), love the Patek on my arm (Patek)
We got static (static), pussy nigga run your charm (hey)
Ghostface killers (killers), Wu-Tang, 21 news gang (news)
Drug dealers in the Mulsanne, at the top of the food chain (hey)
Trappin’ the cocaine (yeah), no gang, shooter with no name
We can play toll games, the whole gang, kick in your door man

Jimmy Wopo – Elm Street 2 (Jordan Kobe Album)

[Intro]
Lord forgive me for my sins, yeah
Real nigga shit
Ayy, Stevie on the beat

[Verse]
Just to be exact, I was born in ninety-seven
So nigga this not crack, it’s heroin
But bitch we got the D and C, no Maryland
If a bitch drop a dime I’ma line her, no Carolin’
Nigga watch, they plot, that wire, they wearin’
Pussy niggas be McFadden, like Darren
Niggas talk ’bout robbin’ me and Quanie, I’m hearin’
So we ride ’round with these choppers, not caring
Lil nigga ugly but they loving my appearance
Lil nigga outchea really thugging with experience
Sixteen, doin’ my thing, outchea fucking niggas’ parents
Sixteen, doin’ my thing, probably stuck a niggas’ parents
RIP Lil Deck, ain’t to my left, that ain’t right
Thinking ’bout you today whoadie, bring my TEC out tonight
Let it hiccup, wet his chest up, watch him put up a fight
Call up Robbo, he go Rondo when I put up a price
Sneaky face, soup eight, HK in my Nikes
It’s been wreck in the ‘jects, had to put up the dice
Bitch we posted, hella toasted off them pills with the pipe
You can call me baby Kobe, bitch I’m dunking like Mike

[Hook]
Yeah yeah, ten nine, holler ten when we slide
Eight seven, ‘nother nigga on channel eleven
Six five, shoot your ass ten times
Four three, three deep, four heat
Nigga two one, you ain’t never shoot none’
Snipers on our shit like we deer huntin’
Ammo gear hunting, semi-auto, switch buttons
I let it hit, talk and spit, that bitch get to fussin’

[Verse 2]
Ooh ooh, Uzi stupid, it shoot two a piece
Chopper make him JuJu on the beat
I got some hitters that be moving deep
That’s them niggas that’ll jugg and creep
Got that MAC with them attachments, that bitch shoot repeat
And that bitch got range, I let it shoot from deep (I let it JJ Reddick)
Ain’t been no sellout, been no fake, I ain’t been hard to reach
I just do the same shit that niggas do for me

[Hook]
Yeah yeah, ten nine, holler ten when we slide
Eight seven, ‘nother nigga on channel eleven
Six five, shoot your ass ten times
Four three, three deep, four heat
Nigga two one, you ain’t never shoot none’
Snipers on our shit like we deer huntin’
Ammo gear hunting, semi-auto, switch buttons
I let it hit, talk and spit, that bitch get to fussin’