[Intro]
(To get to the Backrooms, you must no-clip out of reality)
Ayy, yeah
Ayy, yeah
[Verse 1: bleood]
Why you keep on talking, I'ma get my brother on your ass
Had to flip that pack quick, nigga had to get the bag
Glock with the beam, yeah these bullets finna catch yo' ass
Ayy, ayy, ayy, nigga, talk on me but he cannot get up in his bag
If you talk on the net, then I promise that he on your ass
Talk on clique and I promise you he on your ass
Since I was thirteen, tryna get that bag
Hit the bank with a ski mask, had to do the dash
My niggas really stepping, put you in a body bag
You keep talking on IG, nigga, put you in a body bag
I wasn't on shit 'cause that shit really fucking wack
In the back, with Nett' nigga, yeah, you know that we smoking grass
In the back, with Nett' nigga, yeah, you know that we smoking fucking thrax
If I'm not with gang, lil' nigga, so l know what you smoking on
[Verse 2: Nettspend]
Gotta Glock, uh, yеah
Walk up in club like a cop-like a cop
Life with thе gun, grab his sock-grab his sock
Bitch, yeah, fucking six, ain't slut-slut-sluttin'
Hit the spot with the drop-with the drop-with the drop-with the drop-with the drop-with the drop-with the drop-with the drop
Yeah, fucking 'round these men, at the trap with a gun-with a gun-with a gun, yeah-with a gun-with a gun-with a gun-with a gun-with a gun-with a gun-with a gun
Hit his tummy, now he runnin' to his mom
Fucking on a Tomboy, she gon' suck-gon' suck-gon' suck-gon' suck-gon' suck on my draws-on my draws-on my draws
We finna fuck to this song-to this song-to this song-to this song-song-song-song
To the motherfucking song-song-song-song-song, fuck
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
