OS Lyrics

Creep up on yo street

Dumpin out the heat

Found us sumn a drop

It ain't nun much

Just another jug

Boy you got a nine

I got five seven

Send ya ass to heaven

Motherfucker why you startin

Blamma get to blammin

All my bitches they be scammin

And Yo man's a bitch he be runnin

I ain't talkin bout the streets

Heard yo bro got ptsd

Prolly still pissin on the sheets

Shoulda stayed up on the porch

Shouldn't been in the streets

Knew ya ass was sweet

Talkin like you lit

When you know you ain't shit

Walk around here

And you gettin hit

Washed the game

And I rinsed it

Boy you had yo chance

And you missed it

Pockets broke

Had to fix it

Now I get hella digits

Exo how you get it

Cous I'm really with it

Said I'd do it So I did it

I get it and go

I'm back up at ya throat

Back At ya front door like

Who want the smoke

Im gettin them hooked

Ain't letting them off

I'm sendin them spill

I'm countin em bills

We not getting along

We gettin em gone

We get shipments in

And im breaking em down

It's Fallin in line

I'm gettin to mine

I'm looking to find

A world in my mind