223's

[Intro: midwxst] (Enrgy made this one) Do you hear that? (aldn) That's, that's what real niggas sound like [Chorus: midwxst] Yeah, I got him mad, look at his face, he look like Darth Maul Ringin' up my brothers, I'm the one that made them shots call Gettin' paper, it stay in my hands, I feel like St. Paul Said he wouldn't tell and then he did, and that's his damn fault [Verse 1: midwxst] My money on Eiffel Tower, bitch, you know it stand tall Been off of my phone, get in that bag, bitch, I don't need calls If I ain't make like five-K in a day, bitch, I get withdrawals Niggas tried to hold me down, well, now they got me pissed off Know some brothers that do drills and they don't do construction I know some brothers with them sticks, and thеy don't play percussion My brodie, shh, he keep that K and it might gеt to bustin' You fuck with gang, I hope you know you suffer repercussions My pens and words are fucking weapons of that mass destruction Run in that show and made it jump, them bitches double-dutchin' My brodie really keep that K and he not even Russian I'm in his city tryna slide but I know that he duckin' [Verse 2: midwxst] Man, got me pissed off Bro hand up on the trigger, ready right to let that bitch off Word to my boy Chris, that chopper made him dance like TikTok Casio all up on my wrist, might go bust down the G-Shock Brodie keep that .19 on, he ride 'round with that G-lock What they say? They spot 'em, then they got 'em, made him beatbox Latina girls in my DM's, got me a mamacita If you had the life I'm livin', this shit loco, momma mia, ooh Talk about my brothers and my family, we shoot from the paint Hoodied up, black fit on my body like Kevin Durant I ain't perfect, I done did some shit, bitch, I am not a saint Lost some brothers on the fuckin' way and that shit brought me pain Bail out any of my brothers or the fucking gang Steppin' on me, I know no niggas gon' tuck the chain The hardest that's comin out of Indi', you gon' know the name Told brodie, "Kick the cup," but he can't stop sippin' up on the drank [Verse 3: BabyTron] Hands on, I'm the type to pick the soccer ball up Hop out and walk 'em down, we finna pop 'em all up (Brrt) Sick, he think he shinin', he done went and copped some Palm Buffs (Bitch) Face card scorchin', I don't really shop at malls much (Woo) Ha-ha, look, hot as fuck like I'm stuck in the microwave (Damn) Finna maximize the hit with this micro K (Brrt) Tryna hit the top, you gon' have to fight your way (Where?) Tie him up and leave his body, shit, the psycho way Tryna check this profile credit, what GEICO say? (What?) You ain't tough, snatch your wood, then light your way Lil' pups aim for your ankles, we gon' bite your face Yeah, with these .223s (Brrt) Had the Vs back to back, you know these ain't no Jubilees Tryna race with Mr. Vroom-And-Zoom, I guess that you will see That you can't catch up You sippin' Jabba the Hutt, I got a red cup, no cap [Chorus: midwxst] Yeah, I got him mad, look at his face, he look like Darth Maul Ringin' up my brothers, I'm the one that made them shots call Gettin' paper, it stay in my hands, I feel like St. Paul Said he wouldn't tell and then he did, and that's his damn fault