Before Tour - 67, Dimzy, LD

I got beef with the law

I used to step with swords

Now we hot step with the 4s

Any estate, do a little tour

Fire off corn and show man war

Too much pos so we score

So how you gonna talk about scores when you’re running from war

I’m running from jail, sales and caught

More way trips, bare skrt skrt skrt

Smoking dope with bro

Had the whip in sport

Nuff peng tings, wanna do me

They don’t wanna do me and gang on tour

Love 35, straight to the lung

Like brodie what is the draw

He got wacked, he got chinged

So how these punks gon talk about scores

Niggas chat 'til the papers write on papers

Proceeding statements

I was with J, more way trips

And he got his face in the papers

More time I got mind on the papers

Chasing Elizabeth’s faces

They had me on trial for knifings and violence

But I thank Allah for busting those cases

67 my brodies

Bang corn for my homies

Talking stick gun wan show me

The man there fibbing they phonies

Man a man step, get it correct

On point shots like Kobe

Fill up the 4s, lurk on your block

You can end up with your homie

Put smoke on the roads with bro

Pull up, bow, bow

They thought ma was gonna say yo

Talking guns and drugs

You ain’t got no Ps for a poke

Talking guns and drugs

You ain’t got no Ps for a poke

Jugging, jugging all I know

Mummy said you can’t be broke

So I’m brucking bricks down with bro

Guns, money, drugs

Yeah man do that shit on the road

Free Skeng and Jigga J

Man can’t wait 'til they home

Fill the mash to the dome

Rolling round with some hot heads

Finger itching, they blow

Skengs out on any block

Bro Milly Rock like Mayno

Do a drill, take my shoes off

Chill with bae and smoke dope

Man I really trust a soul

If you’re bro, I ain’t slapping that po

44 donkey kicking

Sound that drum, you can hold this rhythm

Put holes in your coat and your hat

If you’re caught slippin'

Serious drillings

T house living, crack rocks dishing

Tryna make me a killing

Cheff man up when that rambo’s out

Bare blood spilling

Free Benny that’s bro

When he’s home, back to the pyrex whipping

The opps don’t come to the hill

They say they do but they fibbing

Come to my block

Bare gunshots, could be dippings

Fill the skeng out with hollows

No one’s on the drive

Then we skrt round Wano

Then make that crash, them man dash

Stones come fat like Rocko

Stone come fat like Rocko

Amm buds man bill it

I don’t wanna hit your loud

That spliff tastes insigish

Peng lighty thickish

Doggy style when I hit it

Make bands in the trap

From the pack that I’m flipping

Running man trap for the figures

Mobbing

I told momma I wanna live healthy

Don’t phone late, that’s the time that I’m jogging

Really don’t when man jogging

Two Ls up tryna spot him

This gun rude like Loski

And the corn had him Kennington bopping

67 don’t bang, they’re all moist

They do music

You stupid boy, you confused it

Gonna have me out, tryna prove it

Dutty ped with the dutty 4

Tryna shoot hearts like I’m cupid

Cause I told my environment

See the savage life I didn’t choose it

You say you’re a driller, show me

Big gun got me feeling like Tony

None of them killed your friend

I gotta shout Insie still phone me

Bare man act like they know me

You can’t spread my hand

You don’t know me

Peng tings loving the gang

How the fuck could a nigga like me get lonely

It’s mad how we fuck up the music ting

And we still do bootings bait

If we want you to know who did it

Then why would we hide our face

Drill up estates, drill up estates

Then I go do goals with bae

Man drill up estates, drill up estates

Then I go and do goals with bae

Gang

Still pull up in a whip

Big 357 on my hip

Live corn in my clip, got 6

Redrum when my paigon slips

And them man know that we take trips

And I’ll bang down from his head to his hip

I always got something niggas don’t slip

Why the fuck would I talk when my gun do hits

Gang yeah we lurk with things

But touring all my opps, they ain’t on piss

So why did they talk like this

Keep talking, see the gun that I grip

Yeah you can get shot by it

And I ain’t gonna stop 'til all of them drop

So niggas already know they’re pissed

Yeah niggas already know they’re pissed

This skeng’s hot like cage

Scribz’s skeng’s hot like birdie

Still lurk on your block with a big 44

That’s certi

And then I win suttin'

Then that skeng there turned dirty

But I still kick it out there on the next day

Tryna do man dirty