Hands On ft. Danny Mellz Lyrics

Yea

Yea

Yea Yea Yea

I just make plays, won't catch me talking

Twelve showed me the video, that ain't me talking

Tried to flick me in the streets, said I was j walking, but I was C walking

I can sell anything I get my hands on

We don't boost hoes up we put our mans on

Try that dumb shit we leavin' bodies in the dead zone

I'm too player for a bitch to be in friend zone

I don't send a nigga for my dirt, bitch I'm hands on

31, throwin' up the hood that I stand on

Somebody pick him up

If I call Mellz with that choppa, niggas better duck

Giannis on the team, I can't switch up about a buck

Hoe I don't want love, I just wanna see can I fuck

Bitch steppin' on my feet, tryna see what's in my cup

I'm a east side nigga, love screamin', I don't get no fuck

I'm a east side nigga, ain't no love out here

Who want smoke, it could be backwood or gunpowder

Make a nigga leave the shootout early, cause our guns louder

Make a nigga hit the turtle pie, make my lungs holler

Catch me in a fast car with your baby mama in it

If you catch me holdin' a cigar, it's some ganja in it

Glasses on my motherfuckin' face, they all kinda tinted

Yo conversation not about no pape, you won't find me in it

A nigga out here speakin' on my name, but you not important

All I smoke is xotic to the brain, and not in portions

Shawnzy nigga, if I say some shit I can't, then stop recording

I bet a nigga wouldn't last a fuckin' day, inside my forces