Cruz Beckham

Too soon back but I'm hopin' it's sooner

Cats dem leapin' across like Puma

Our tings come fat not mini like Cooper

But are you really into chances? (Are you?)

Step with the grub just mask it

Hammer on, pull up four-door and blast it (Baow)

Better run quick, you better run, you're fastest

It's way too hot, them man haffi park it (Park)

Shh, out of the window we're tryna hit targets (Hit that)

Slide B-P like, "Where are these bastards?"

We got that prick, so we slowly departed (Pussy)

[Verse 2: MadMax]

Poke a boy up with the stainless, run down who, about bloodclaat Rayners? (Splash)

Been on the glide 'nough times, so the pussy boy dem can't tell me about shavings (No way)

All the verbal talk is long

Back out my ching and hit him with the chong

Tryna turn man off, the gang did him wrong

Lucky that prick wasn't the main one

Bare tears and verbs are comin' along

You talk about your retaliation rate is rapid, so how come me and M never been splattered?

Stop lyin' for the bitch and the fashion

I drench man's top, but the boy loves dashin'

A fat rambo and they say no lackin' (Baow)

How the fuck can they scream, "Wizz pack" with a passion?

They glide ten toes tryna turn man cabbage

RLK, say that for no fashion

Grab man up, you know Uncs will slap it

I don't give verbs cause them boys love chattin'

They go on the bank and Snap' what happened (Some dickheads)

Wagwan, bro you know nothin' bout bangin'?

Leave my phone at home then me or gang tan him

Leave my phone at home then me or gang tan him

Ask that prick how I done him both times (Go ask)

Two car convoy gang on the glide

Shit then, fuck that nigga should've died

How the fuck did dookie grab him behind? (Oh my days)

Oh my days, what dumb silly guys

I buck man on the train and he blew for his life

I nearly made man do a train track twice

Creep Up Gang, don't chase all the time

[Verse 3: NitoNB]

Wait, don't move (Hold up)

You know that my gangs on violence, let me show man what the spin can do (Baow, boaw)

Bare man love to chat to the trident, we ain't that type to go lie on our tunes (Fuck that)

Little bro crept up the other stayed silence, he's violent, left don on the news (Splattered)

And you know that shit there tragic

If I back it then it's cocked (Baow)

This bitch here comin' in ratchet I will not slam it, so you can't get cock (Silly bitch)

But instead you can hold this beater and make sure keep that hush (Shh)

'Cah if one of them get touched, man hit up the M-way and do up cunch (C-Coast)

And them boy there know what the plan was

Must be why they're chillin' by cameras (Hate me)

Must be why they're doin' up hidin'

Lil bro's got swords like Vikings

Bro hits anything he's sightin' (Baow)

Bro touch anything that moves (Moves)

And make sure you do that brilliant and their friend can hold it too

Got corn for all the affiliates (All of them)

'Nough times baked off in a cunch spot

'Nough times bro handled that bruck-back (Big ting)

Don't lack 'cah the ting is a six shot

Bro aims the ting at your wig-back (At your head)

Man hit up the clientele, if he's draggin' man down, that bridge gotta go (Burn it)

Roll with certi' niggas that got man, everyone I'm 'round will let the gun blow (Baow)

And you know that's facts (Eh?)

Man tour your estates like, come out

Come out and see what's in a man's bag (Come see)

And you know that's facts (Baow)

Lyrics provided by LRCLIB