Told On You ft. MoneyRone Lyrics

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Why you said that I was on the run, who

Got a hold of you

I told you don't be fuckin' with 'em, they will end up folding you

He said let's pull the move, just me and you, cause I'm a shooter too

I rock designer just like I was lootin', I'm a looter too

You punking me, I fooling you, lil baby don't get comfortable

See tryna steal my heart, then play the part like nigga who is you

I keep my circle small, if it's too big it's like who told on you

Don't let nobody in, cause if you do, they gotta hold on you

Walk up with that drac' and dump until his soul float in'

Face shot it go braah! Leave a nigga nose open

Walk up in the function, jewelry on, clothes soakin'

I see lil bro posted over there with the bros jokin'

Roll a wood up, hit the lights, got the hoes chokin'

After I get right, pull my pants up, the blues pokin'

Just the other week, police picked up them clues hopin'

If the feds on ass, kickin' dust till my shoes smokin'

Now we on these fuck niggas hating, get head tapped

Tryna operate through the field, but it's fed traps

Know some mommas cry for a few, when them SIG's clap

Remember when Lil Dre said I blew if I did rap

I remember runnin' niggas down, we run them bands, they run they mouth

Niggas just want beef on Instagram, like what that shit about

You niggas really woofin', y'all don't mean it, y'all just chasin' clout

Got my name up in they mouth, my dick up in they mouth, like take it out

I know what that field was like, just wanna bring my niggas out

Most the gang stay posted on the east, but bitch, I'm in the south

My lil nigga changed up, went to the priest and chose a different route

Off ecstasy my young nigga turnt beast and turnt they shit to drought

Tryn' see my name on articles and talk 'bout how I fed the block

My new bitch got a heart of gold, protect her spendin' bread on glocks

Ain't no more room in cemeteries, they start to put the dead in rocks

They running out of time, ain't score enough, by the time they check the clock

Aye, look, all my friends is dead, all my friends is dead

Because my only friend is Benjamin, and I don't politic

Unless you talking 'bout dead presidents, this smoke it got him sick

My finger itch off percocet and xans

Like what you talkin' bout, she tryna hold my tool

Like check it out, see what that choppa bout, this party gettin' hot

Open the window, 'fore I air it out, my nigga got him shot

He ain't get popped, cause he still poppin' out

Said mask down, gloves on, want smoke, come shoot some

I be posted in the night time with the goon niggas with a big gun

All these hit and runs turn to homicides, niggas feelin' bold like it's Columbine

Now his mama wishing we could rewind, niggas gettin' stung when them bee's fly

Aye, I don't know, like why y'all niggas mad at me

Why y'all looking at my food, I'm tryna get a plate to eat

I heard that you gotta want this shit more than you wanna breathe

Once I start getting money, they envy me, they switching teams