GLIDERS (INTERLUDE) - OFB

I’m in the 9 tryna fish, no prawn

And if you don’t run, get filled with corn

T-shirts get torn, this shotgun sawn

Chop it the same size as Shaun

Yawn, Bando from morning to morn

With a bad B, her back come big like storm

Civilians all bibbing their horn

Got me spinning this coupe for my brown skin jawn

I don’t talk on the glide, man’s silent

And my heart’s fully in when I’m riding

Run man down 'til a paigon vomits

Long samurai, tryna ching where his mind is

SJ tryna bun two yutes

Three car doors get popped when we’re sliding

What you know about your Rambo coming unscrewed

So you twist it 'til it’s tightened

I’m in Edmonton Green where these guys don’t be

Gold teeth and this mash gon' beat

I’m on the Aves with a pumpy beat

But it’s calm 'cause they still get filled with sweets

Cheap, all these machines ain’t cheap

See an opp on the glide and get smoked for free

Peak, now let’s watch a pussyhole leak

Cock it and jump out, and see Turna skeet

My broski wan' spill some juice

Let’s hit the opp block, I’m with you too

Let’s do it in twos, drill from coupes

Bandokay, loose screwed

Blacked out in the 9 with two

Don’t look in the light, don’t know who’s who

This sweet one’s tryna go on rude

Now she’s up in my DM’s going on cute

Hop out the-hop out the ride, make it beat like Madara

Pull up in the 2's, everyting get badded up

Lil Jojo times two, he had 'nuff

Swear down Snipez didn’t work on his stamina

Three man squashed in the back, no cap

S was good, he was sitting in the passenger

Pull up in Farm then we rise these hammers up

Lean out quick, double tap, bro bang it off

In my head it was me in the 9

Now it’s me in the 9, I think it’s deja vu

Broski off this roof

And loaded waps up in this blacked out coupe

When you rap, put your mic on mute

You don’t mash no work so don’t lie in the booth

SJ, I spit too much fire in the booth

It’s not like The Endgame, can’t call it truce