About This Track
"60s*" is a track by Pop Smoke, from the album PS3*, released 19th September 2020. Full lyrics are available below.
Lyrics
[Verse 1] (Momma, she worked so hard to earn every penny) Uh, on the block with a choppa, it was just me and chop (Chop) I was chillin' with killers and scammers (Scammers) Niggas know how I rock (Rock) when I came on the block (Block) No construction, I play with them hammers (Hammers) And fuck 12, them niggas can't stand us They shoot at a kid with his hands up Rest in peace to my soldiers and for all of my guys We gon' pour up a four in this Fanta Respect a black man on a mission From New York to L.A., we crippin' Let 'em reflect on the album The waiter on the edge I be sippin' I'm tryna get all of my guys out the kitchen For thе money, you know that they itchin' Free all of my real niggas sittin' up It's not how you fall, how you gеttin' up Fifteen on the check-ins, the Loub' when I'm steppin' 38 be the weapon, no bitchin' up It's Big Papa Stunna, you see me, start runnin' You know it's the gang, it's no switchin' up I'm totin' 'em chops 'cause you know I got glizzies I keep some extra shooters with me We trap out the basement, we punchin' 'em numbers You hopin' and payin' for shippin' You sayin' you fuckin' but ain't nothin' hit me 'Cause I keep a blicky, in case it gets sticky And I let it woo, but when I'm not crippin' We spin in the Wraith, top-down in the renty Got one in the head, we ain't leave till it's empty Sippin' Henny but we call it Jenny We all gettin' breesh, we mix the Buscemi with all of the Fendi My bitch got on Fendi until we live Gucci I need a tone before I get sixty Wishin' no pity, you wanna make bread, tell 'em open up Citi These niggas don't walk but they talk about it We sellin' that chalk, we don't talk about it We flexin' up TD approve we gon' [TT?] We walk in the spot, then we walk up out it [Interlude] Gang, gang Man, that shit crazy (Man) Lotta niggas ain't who they say they is, ya feel me? Niggas wanna talk that tough shit but when they get touched They gon' run to they momma and shit Got they mom inboxin' the gang and shit like, you feel me? That shit ain't gangsta That shit ain't real [Verse 2] Uh, call up the Batman, I'm Robin From the Flossy, that's Crip and I gangbang All my niggas on the same thing Smokin' gas while I switch lanes Caught a opp up with the hello Black hair by the Regis and Pello I'm always around niggas know that I keep my jaw locked like I'm Kodak Throw somethin' at me, I'ma throwback [Outro] Gang
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