Blocka La Flame (Demo) lyrics

[Intro]
Young Chop on the beat

[Chorus]
I got diamonds on my blocka, serve it to my flocka
Yeah, that's my flocka (Ooh-ooh), to my flocka (Ooh-ooh)
Pray to Lord on my shotta, she be proper (Agh, agh)
Yeah, that's my flocka (Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh)

[Verse 1]
Paint this, Basquiat, [?] on my banger
On that Bay side of the [?], trippin' offa my manga
f*ck, f*ck, f*ck, might lose your soul for my language
They want my chain, suicide make a b*tch bang, bang
Double-X, n*gga, this the chain gang
Salute the n*gga, I might troop the n*gga
Shoeshine a n*gga when I'm walkin', man
A n*gga drive around, man, I roof the n*gga
Fifteen when I carried loads of them Oziums
And them bag of nicks, I mean groceries
I mean daddy knows ain't no controlling me
My bad, my n*ggas gon' sag
She give me head before the ass and never let no n*gga smash
No puffin', no pass
We breakin' everything in half, thank you for making it last
Get everythin' that you got
Break me a piece of that off, rest in peace n*ggas I lost
[Chorus]
I got diamonds on my blocka, serve it to my flocka
Yeah, that's my flocka (Ooh-ooh), to my flocka (Ooh-ooh)
Pray to Lord on my shotta, she be proper (Agh, agh)
Yeah, that's my flocka (Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh)

[Verse 2]
Thank God, threw that n*gga in the bay, ayy
Bang, bang, bang, f*ck it, maintain
Thinkin' 'bout stickyin' your girl face
Sip Merlot, watch us make the champagne rain
Let my ding-a-lang hang
I'm a southside n*gga where the 'caine reign
We runnin', summers, we runnin'
n*ggas never get no lovin'
Keep that sh*t pumpin', pumpin' outside of the club, and
When I pull up, we be stuntin'
b*tches I call fall through in dozens
n*ggas at home won't leave me 'lone, n*ggas be buggin'
Through the cellphone, I hear home
Ain't that a b*tch, that b*tch frontin'
We used to talk, think how she leftin' me out
Thinkin' 'bout it make me vomit
Pow, pow, that bluff of that chain
Hallelujah to the Lord, pourin' champagne all over that paint
[Chorus]
I got diamonds on my blocka, serve it to my flocka
Yeah, that's my flocka (Ooh-ooh), to my flocka (Ooh-ooh)
Pray to Lord on my shotta, she be proper (Agh, agh)
Yeah, that's my flocka (Ooh-ooh, ill America baby, ooh-ooh)