Caught Without It ft. FA GALLARDO Lyrics

They rather get booked they can't get caught without it

Them niggas is shook how you gon walk without It

My hittas forreal look they don't talk about It

Haters gon feel us I be moving with the killas

They rather get booked they can't get caught without it

Them niggas is shook how you gon walk without It

My hittas forreal look they don't talk about It

Haters gon feel us I be moving with the killas

Funds for my hitta 40 out the window

You wanna be a street nigga they call me the realest

Know some killas in the trenches making home visits

And they one call away don't make me hurt your feelings

Scheming wit the demons know they outside

Your girl sucking while I drive I tell her open wide

Carry protection rubber grip on the strap

Shooter lay techs spin the blizzy

Toting glizzies niggas gon play dead

He can't get caught slipping so he always wit it

Rather increase the murder rate than to be a victim

Another casualty can't fall to police brutality

Y'all niggas better ride for me

Gallardo on The Side Of Me

Two deep two dessert e's

FA say lizzy im in the city shit get litty still talking gritty

That nigga ready to die to kill him ain't no biggie

I lounge around like who could want smoke with me nigga

They rather get booked they can't get caught without it

Them niggas is shook how you gon walk without It

My hittas forreal look they don't talk about It

Haters gon feel us I be moving with the killas

They rather get booked they can't get caught without it

Them niggas is shook how you gon walk without It

My hittas forreal look they don't talk about It

Haters gon feel us I be moving with the killas

My mother told me in due time I'll do time

Spin his block send him a movie he walk a new line

Fell back in love with them hundreds I seen them blue lines

Streets of FA ain't no game you gon see true crime

Ooh he sick

Medicine I need medicine

Make him see the hammer he runnin up call the reverend

Ooh they shot him

Brethren where ya brethren

Send them to your mother crib late night she gon let em in

Where he live at we dead him in

Wearin a vest shoot head up in

Tinted rentals you catch em in

Carry 30's, put Stephen in bro

He spin the block that rubber grip on his strap better play dead

Clean up crew I'm sweepin right back we dont make mess

See the drip she lovin the taste

silencer sound like a cork you hear the

Watch your face I'm gon get caught without it

Bitch I doubt it

Judged by 12 I'm never carried by six

Til I die rich