@'em Lyrics

I got mags, I got techs

Throw up to set, pop my shit

Spilled my tech, my T-shirt wet

I'm high oh yes, I'm high, oh yes

Oh ya, I can't feel shit, hell nah

Yea, huh

I don't pass blunts bitch I'm stingy

I don't spoil hoes that's never been me

Shoot the .45 until it's empty

Spray the block and leave them in a frenzy

I could probably run for presidency

But I don't fuck with niggas I'm not friendly

Back outside

I been outside, chilling on the block

How do you think I got the racks I got?

I just had to turn it up a notch

Always gotta tech, I don't play soft

She a pretty hoe fuck her face off

Tryna copy swag that I've been on

I'm a smack her ass like a ping pong

I'm on top, What the fuck you thought?

I might buy a car to see how fast to go

I'll be getting pack shipped in from Mexico

He got body bagged they put them in a hole

I can't feel my dick I fucked too many hoes

She got power she a bad hoe

She won't never make me go out sad though

I just text hoes what you mad for

Having straps I can go to battle

I can go to war with any man

Have an artillery that they cant handle

Remember, I was chilling in the bando

I done chilled out I'm still the man though

We get bands then spend on Prada bags

Lotta bags I done had a lot of swag

I done had shit I should've never had

I'm just saying, I planned all this without a plan

I don't even try man goddamn hitting like a lineman

I done did everything that I can goddamn

Pop at em, huh pop at em, huh

Pop at em, huh pop at em, huh

Pop at em, huh pop at em, huh

Pop at em, huh pop at em, huh

Shoot at your boy, we leave them down

I keep them from going out of bounds

I got sticks I got rounds

I got drugs I got pounds

Pop at em, huh pop at em, huh

Pop at em, huh pop at em, huh

Pop at em, huh pop at em, huh

Pop at em, huh pop at em, huh

Shoot at your boy, we leave them down

I keep them from going out of bounds

I got sticks I got rounds

I got drugs I got pounds

Pop at em, huh