Crash Dummy - Quin Nfn

Gang, baow, baow, baow, baow, ayy

Hold on, ayy, ayy, hold on, gang

Hold on, hold on

I swear to god I ain’t ever had luck

Feeling like 'Pac how we hitting niggas up

And we in the four with them sticks in the truck

Talking about beef, and he blitzin' or what?

Chanel on my sneaks, is he crippin' or what?

She say she like when I grip on her butt

Play with her, she gon' die, we be tripping for nothing

Bust down the Rollie, a two tone

She a thot, I’ma pop with my shoes on

It be feeling so right when I do wrong

Niggas sleeping on Quin, tell them, «Snooze on»

I been trapping too hard got a new phone

'Cause I ain’t got time for the feds, nigga

Nigga play with that gang, he a dead nigga

Have him holding his heart like the pledge, nigga

Send a whole lot of shots, we gon' slide like a Visa

Riding foreign with my bitch, we both got us a Bimmer

And these niggas flock, tryna cop my demeanor

Try to run in the trap and get ran like fajitas

We got a whole lot of shots, Tequila

Playing with a whole lot of racks, Serena

She know I’m rich, she pick up when I need her

Rocking Dior, but the Prada look cleaner

I been on guala since I was a toddler

Refuse to step out unless I’m rocking designer

She wanna fuck cause she know I’m a problem

I came out the four and I’m strapped with the chopper

Teed up, we tryna shoot at niggas' mamas

We gon' take a four if you start up that drama

Came from the block, I was deep with my partners

Now we in LA tryna eat on some pasta

We upping the shots, he gon' need him a doctor

Tvo throwing G’s with some G’s on his collar

I’m tired of the ratchets I need me a rider

Got a whole lot of cheese, need the whole enchilada

He made a diss but ain’t go with his morgue

Heard he dropped the bag, come and get it approved

Cause he want some beef, it’s gon' end on the news

I be rolling up Runtz to go land on the moon

I’m gone, hold on, hold on

I swear to god I ain’t ever had luck

Feeling like 'Pac how we hitting niggas up

And we in the four with them sticks in the truck

Talking about beef, and he blitzin' or what?

Chanel on my sneaks, is he crippin' or what?

She say she like when I grip on her butt

Play with her, she gon' die, we be tripping for nothing

Bust down the Rollie, a two tone

She a thot, I’ma pop with my shoes on

It be feeling so right when I do wrong

Niggas sleeping on Quin, tell them, «Snooze on»

I been trapping too hard got a new phone

'Cause I ain’t got time for the feds, nigga

Nigga play with that gang, he a dead nigga

Have him holding his heart like the pledge, nigga

Damn

Hold on, hold on, oh

Riding around town

Playing around with us

Talking about nothing, another one down

Fucking around with us, you get shot, popped

I’m Chris Brown

Nigga play around, we gon' hunt him down

I’m in the four, tryna, hold on