[Intro]
Damn Chose (Ayy)
Say, you can check the facts
You know I ain't never lied in a song (DJ Chose)
You know, everything I talk 'bout, I actually did
Yee, shout out T-Boy (Hardbody), ayy, ayy
[Chorus]
Turn down your gangsta, nigga, you just makin' music (Blap, blap)
He got a thirty, we ain't never seen him use it (Ha-ha)
All your friends be dead, nigga, you must fuck with Uzi (Blap, blap)
When it 'bout that murder, bitch, I'm similar to Gucci, yeah (Huh)
Bitch, if you beefin' then we beefin' back (Blap, blap)
Say he got a body, don't believe him, need a receipt with that (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Say he got them Drac's, bitch, you lyin', where you keep em at? (Blap, blap)
Say he got a body, bitch, you lyin', need a receipt with that (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
[Verse 1]
Wait, you know we put shit in the grave for playin' games, bitch, yeah
Pull on side the whip and spray, fuck who he came with, yeah
Real ape up out the jungle, you can't tame this
Nigga sweet as cookies, call 'em Famous Amos
Fuck with the opps then you will die with who you hang with
Yeah, t-shirt, blood stains, what the business is? (What it is?)
Yeah, drop a diss, youngin' hollerin', what the ticket is? (What it is?)
Ooh, push that dick off in his bitch, I don't care how you feel
Damn Chose (Ayy)
Say, you can check the facts
You know I ain't never lied in a song (DJ Chose)
You know, everything I talk 'bout, I actually did
Yee, shout out T-Boy (Hardbody), ayy, ayy
[Chorus]
Turn down your gangsta, nigga, you just makin' music (Blap, blap)
He got a thirty, we ain't never seen him use it (Ha-ha)
All your friends be dead, nigga, you must fuck with Uzi (Blap, blap)
When it 'bout that murder, bitch, I'm similar to Gucci, yeah (Huh)
Bitch, if you beefin' then we beefin' back (Blap, blap)
Say he got a body, don't believe him, need a receipt with that (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Say he got them Drac's, bitch, you lyin', where you keep em at? (Blap, blap)
Say he got a body, bitch, you lyin', need a receipt with that (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
[Verse 1]
Wait, you know we put shit in the grave for playin' games, bitch, yeah
Pull on side the whip and spray, fuck who he came with, yeah
Real ape up out the jungle, you can't tame this
Nigga sweet as cookies, call 'em Famous Amos
Fuck with the opps then you will die with who you hang with
Yeah, t-shirt, blood stains, what the business is? (What it is?)
Yeah, drop a diss, youngin' hollerin', what the ticket is? (What it is?)
Ooh, push that dick off in his bitch, I don't care how you feel
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