DJ Pharris
This chicago nigga
Uhh, uhh, go, go
Yuh, uhh, uhh
Uh, this 200 the whip
That bitch ain’t nothin to hit
Mike Amiri the skinnies
All blue benjis when I’m
Better know I got one on the hip
Better know it’s one in the melon
3 time felon the stick and the switch
And we sip real drank, and we smoke real za
Bitch don’t worry bout' how I got it, this my real car
Bitches I wanted to fuck back then out here real pop
And we ain’t ever callin' no peace treaty bitch we kill opps
[Verse 1: Lil Zay Osama}
Uh, only nigga crossed us and touched a million
Fucked it off got it back run up a billion
High speed chases fuck a civilian
Like I ain’t made it I be trippin'
Uh, I can’t leave without who I came wit'
I got money they tell me to change
Now I’m on that same shit
Bro in the can for the same shit
And they tryna' put another case on him for a nigga chain bitch
But that lawyer paid bitch
I’m richer than all my opps, I’m bigger than all my opps
We killin' all our opps, who tellin'? All the opps
(Bro in the can for the same shit
And they tryna' put another case on him for a nigga chain bitch
But that lawyer paid bitch
I’m richer than all my opps, I’m bigger than all my opps
We killin' all our opps, who tellin'? All the opps)
Uh, this 200 the whip
That bitch ain’t nothin to hit
Mike Amiri the skinnies
All blue benjis when I’m
Better know I got one on the hip
Better know it’s one in the melon
3 time felon the stick and the switch
And we sip real drank, and we smoke real za
Bitch don’t worry bout' how I got it this my real car
Bitches I wanted to fuck back then out here real pop
And we ain’t ever callin' no peace treaty bitch we kill opps
(Yeah, lets get it)
Bitch I’m richer than my opps, and they biggest homies, yeah
All these niggas act like bitches, definition of it, uh
Keep my pistol on me, uh, top his top he phony, uh
Cock that Glock back, chh chh boom, who she fuck? She told me
Play the opps inside this club while we in here just don’t do that
Hittin' everybody else except for us the opps is stupid
Rod Wave I die with my cuban, broad day you a' die in a Uber
Fuck the opps they tired of snoozin'
Fuck the opps they tired of losin' (lets get it)
You talkin' bout weirdo hoes (yup)
Ya’ll hoes share ya’ll clothes (they do)
Opp hoes touch they toes (lets get it)
She say don’t tell her brothers (naw)
I say no one knows (one knows)
Audemar bust down rolls (rolls)
You in the striker pose (pose)
You love them typa' hoes (lets get it)
Uh, it’s 200 the whip (yep), she want 200 to hit (lets get it)
I fuck off my name i’m slick, (whaat)
That nigga a lame he snitched (yeah)
Just stay in yo lane we rich (we rich)
That one opp lame as shit (as shit)
(That one opp lame he bitch)
Yeah
Uh, this 200 the whip
That bitch ain’t nothin to hit
Mike Amiri the skinnies
All blue benjis when I’m
Better know I got one on the hip
Better know it’s one in the melon
3 time felon the stick and the switch
And we sip real drank, and we smoke real za
Bitch don’t worry bout' how I got it this my real car
Bitches I wanted to fuck back then out here real pop
And we ain’t ever callin' no peace treaty bitch we kill opps
Yeah we kill opps, hit a opp, bitch we kill opps
Go, go, bitch we kill opps, gdam, gda, gdam, gdam
Wha, wha, wha