DROSE - Manz
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{verse 1: drose}
If we talkin’ bout opps they fans, in the streets keep a gun in my hand, niggas say “how you ran on your mans?”, get up close i don’t shoot with two hands, free (?...) my bro locked in that jam, when rob all my boys from the sand tryna get out the hood doin’ all that we can, you can’t tote on a pole you ain’t blam
{verse 2: kyle rich}
She don’t like when i tote on a blick, fuck it i put the pain in a spliff, like night time shoot through the darkness, fuck everybody this life had me heartless, prada stamp on my chest it ain’t cheap like, glock put a dot on his tee, he cannot trap if i flock out the v, like try to run caught a shot to the knee, life gave me lemons i mixed it with hennessy she a thot she be moppin’ the team, legs in the tele they getting real deady and they yellin’ its kr da g, if i spot me a…then it’s up, in that fanny i’m grippin that what? i’m on that block with the drillers and ooters i love all my niggas like family’s a must, for my brothers i’m taking that risk, like free loco and (?...) too, everything dead i be itching to spot me a victim like what don’t run ta blitz em, she a thot she need dick in her system, like what dump that knocka, she off the wock like flocka he not a member that boy an imposta
{verse 3: drose}
He talkin hot we gon send him up, bullets connect hollows bend him up, spin one more time we ain’t bend enough, shoppin at (?...) i ain’t spend enough, but now we on feet, i ain’t gon lie them boys faster than me, light up bro block niggas pass it to me, (?...) he ain’t crashin the v baby sit on my lap in the back of the seat, bitch it’s game time, shoot out the v but i chase mine, big .45 on my waistline, police ‘round the corner i can’t waste time, your bitch a thottie she want facetime, she got passed ‘round the homies sumn like eight times, 7.62s these shits break spines ain’t go to the league so i break crimes
{verse 4: kyle rich}
And she had a great time, why you mad she be fucking the gang? with some niggas who ready to flame, if you not grippy then you cannot hang, and brodie came up off his chain, he this he lit he be flashing the sh..(like what), you won’t see me flashing the grip, you never know who be ratting and shit
{verse 5: drose}
Drop a diss they be chatting and shit spin my block with no lights then we clapping it quick, tried to work then we clapping that bitch walk down headshot leave em flat on that shit, dissin d you a faggot and shit get a pound for the lo then we bagging that shit, niggas not on my bragging and shit tryna sign me a deal get active and shit
{verse 1: drose}
If we talkin’ bout opps they fans, in the streets keep a gun in my hand, niggas say “how you ran on your mans?”, get up close i don’t shoot with two hands, free (?...) my bro locked in that jam, when rob all my boys from the sand tryna get out the hood doin’ all that we can, you can’t tote on a pole you ain’t blam
{verse 2: kyle rich}
She don’t like when i tote on a blick, fuck it i put the pain in a spliff, like night time shoot through the darkness, fuck everybody this life had me heartless, prada stamp on my chest it ain’t cheap like, glock put a dot on his tee, he cannot trap if i flock out the v, like try to run caught a shot to the knee, life gave me lemons i mixed it with hennessy she a thot she be moppin’ the team, legs in the tele they getting real deady and they yellin’ its kr da g, if i spot me a…then it’s up, in that fanny i’m grippin that what? i’m on that block with the drillers and ooters i love all my niggas like family’s a must, for my brothers i’m taking that risk, like free loco and (?...) too, everything dead i be itching to spot me a victim like what don’t run ta blitz em, she a thot she need dick in her system, like what dump that knocka, she off the wock like flocka he not a member that boy an imposta
{verse 3: drose}
He talkin hot we gon send him up, bullets connect hollows bend him up, spin one more time we ain’t bend enough, shoppin at (?...) i ain’t spend enough, but now we on feet, i ain’t gon lie them boys faster than me, light up bro block niggas pass it to me, (?...) he ain’t crashin the v baby sit on my lap in the back of the seat, bitch it’s game time, shoot out the v but i chase mine, big .45 on my waistline, police ‘round the corner i can’t waste time, your bitch a thottie she want facetime, she got passed ‘round the homies sumn like eight times, 7.62s these shits break spines ain’t go to the league so i break crimes
{verse 4: kyle rich}
And she had a great time, why you mad she be fucking the gang? with some niggas who ready to flame, if you not grippy then you cannot hang, and brodie came up off his chain, he this he lit he be flashing the sh..(like what), you won’t see me flashing the grip, you never know who be ratting and shit
{verse 5: drose}
Drop a diss they be chatting and shit spin my block with no lights then we clapping it quick, tried to work then we clapping that bitch walk down headshot leave em flat on that shit, dissin d you a faggot and shit get a pound for the lo then we bagging that shit, niggas not on my bragging and shit tryna sign me a deal get active and shit
