What You Reckon Lyrics by Digga D & B-Lovee
(You done messed up A-A-Ron)
(R14)
(If I was your best friend)
Yo, yo, yo
Fuck my career for a second
Eighteen, I was on seven
Seventeen, six in the Wesson
One, two, six, I’ll cheff him
Gave the four and the baby a blessin’
Eight in the baby nine, I’ll kweff him
A hundred ‘lastic bands still stretchin’
What you reckon?
Fuck my career for a second
Eighteen, I was on seven
Seventeen, six in the Wesson
One, two, six, I’ll cheff him
Gave the four and the baby a blessin’
Eight in the baby nine, I’ll kweff him
A hundred ‘lastic bands still stretchin’
What you reckon?
**** stretched like yoga
**** got stretched like Yola
Mix the cocaine with the ammonia, paraphernalia all on the sofa
**** try run, so man, what a joker, still got put on my poker
**** got super soaked up
Picture the .40 clarting
For anyone asking, it’s just me that’s drillin’ and chartin’
Top ten with the skeng, I’ll blast him
Top five with a knife, I’ll carve him
Top **** got taped, stop laughin’
It was us that got down ****, never dropped ****, but man’s still sparkin’
If your cunt ain’t wet, I won’t trouble it
Yo, gyal, open your mouth, let me cum in it
This little bitch wanna boom off my cocky
After she finished the boom with the rum in it
I won’t roll with my gun for the fun of it
The car behind got a fuckin’ gun in it
One had a whistle and one had a beam, but I need a gun with a fuckin’ drum in it
Fuck my career for a second
Eighteen, I was on seven
Seventeen, six in the Wesson
One, two, six, I’ll cheff him
Gave the four and the baby a blessin’
Eight in the baby nine, I’ll kweff him
A hundred ‘lastic bands still stretchin’
What you reckon?
Fuck my career for a second
Eighteen, I was on seven
Seventeen, six in the Wesson
One, two, six, I’ll cheff him
Gave the four and the baby a blessin’
Eight in the baby nine, I’ll kweff him
A hundred ‘lastic bands still stretchin’
What you reckon?
What’s he reppin’? Bro be steppin’, he might sneak in the spot with his weapon
We hit a opp, he gon’ drop any second
They know I’m too deep in this shit, it won’t stop
I’ma stay with this Glock and get lit, I’ma flock
Grrah, that’s a new opp in a box
She keep shaking her shit with the Glock in her hand
I’ma shake up the block when I hop out and blam
Soon as I hop out, he ran
This shit’ll hold 30, click until it jam
Still I chould get sturdy, I might do my dance
If he twin, he get sturdy, he don’t even dance
Driving wise in the spot, that’s what I do
Say he gon’ do what? He get shot if he try to
I bring knocks in the spot, that’s how I move
Thinking I’m lacking, lil boy, I am not you
I don’t give a fuck about him and his gang
I know I got fam but I still let it bang, like
He keep talking but ain’t do a thing
Catch me on the opps, let it off at the daylight
I’m not doing this shit for no name, this really be me, no cap
We caught opp after opp, a couple n***** lack
We spin block after block, a couple n***** smack
Fuck my career for a second
Eighteen, I was on seven
Seventeen, six in the Wesson
One, two, six, I’ll cheff him
Gave the four and the baby a blessin’
Eight in the baby nine, I’ll kweff him
A hundred ‘lastic bands still stretchin’
What you reckon?
Fuck my career for a second
Eighteen, I was on seven
Seventeen, six in the Wesson
One, two, six, I’ll cheff him
Gave the four and the baby a blessin’
Eight in the baby nine, I’ll kweff him
A hundred ‘lastic bands still stretchin’
What you reckon?
(You done messed up, A-A-Ron)
(R14)
(If I was your best friend)