OPPS CLEAR OUT lyrics

[Intro]
Play this record-
This is a certified hood classic

[Verse 1: .223Jerm]
b*tch, I'm flexed up, see me with my pipe (Bo-bo-bo-bo-bo)
Got my goonies with the yoppa and a snipe (Boom-boom)
Real trap sh*t
Take yo chains and yo watch and yo Nikes (Gimme that)
b*tch, I'm flexed up, see me with the pipe (Graa)
b*tch, I'm flexed up, even at the store (Like what the f*ck?)
Got a choppa, that's my toolie, grippin' poles (Boom-boom)
But that b*tch, gave me neck, 'till she choke (what the f*ck?)
All my n*ggas, shootin' bullets like we bloks (Like what the f*ck?)
I just squat a plug, took his work (I took his pack)
I just ran up on the field, on his turf (On his turf)
R.I.P memo lizzie on her shirt (On her shirt)
I put that n*gga's ashes right in my purp (In my purp)

[Verse 2: Lil Darkie]
I told that b*tch to stop, huh
f*ck all yo friends, they too rich to pop, off!
Please step to me, I could knock your top, off!
n*ggas show no love, I know why you talk
Soft ass n*gga
Light fell on the gas, n*gga
f*ck keeping my friends
All that sh*t is in the past, n*gga
Oh, you want some now, huh
Why you never ask, whether
I was doing good or needed help inside this bad weather
Act like you're my friend
Or I'll assume you just gon' use me for my talent
In the end those n*ggas always end up losing you in balance
I ain't putting in no time, don't hit me just to talk
So don't be asking for a dime when my wrist is rocked
(You don't even hit my line, n*gga the f*ck?)
[Verse 3: .223Jerm]
Jugg them packs and we know that I swerve
n*ggas talking bullets 'till they ass got burnt
Yeah, I give 'em warning, but they still won't learn (Aye, f*ck)
Da-da-da-da, when it's drive-by, hit curbs (Skr, skrttt)
n*ggas try to press me, but they steal cash, b*tch
See me pull up, now his body in the ditch
I don't give a f*ck, make it stun, he gon' miss (Boom-boom)
b*tch, I'm James Hardy when I'm shooting with the wrist (Oh, f*ck)
Real trap sh*t

[Verse 4: 83HADES]
Eeightythree
R-r-r-r-r-ride in the moshpit
Light 'em up, he get shot quick
And I really make that top
Spin the chopper, off him
Never had sh*t, I'm not sober f*cking often (Ofteeen)
Moving weight, I put in work like it's f*cking CrossFit (CrossFiiiit)
Gimme-gimme top, b*tch, you finna ride this f*cking Glock, b*tch
When you see me in the night, I'm with my f*cking goblins
I'mma turn that b*tch nostalgic, I'm really poppin'
I'm the master and lil' b*tch you still a novice
Stalking 'till he all alone, hear the knockin'
He a pus*y, he don't want no motherf*ckin' problems
Got a hole in his head, in his skull, turn 'em dolphins
Said that he wants static then we can get to shockin'
Bring the Glock in, bop bop, two shots in his legs
Yeah, on crutches, he ain't walking
I don't listen when you're talkin', I'm getting paid for talking
RVR3 is the set, lil' b*tch, we on that squad sh*t
You are not a part of it, so back the f*ck up off of me
Chopper do 'em bad, chopper give his ass lobotomy
Yeah, I'm moving with narcotics, G
Smoking collared greens
I just popped me a bean
Take a few of the greens
I'mma really let it gleam
End the party with my beam
Got a couple killas with me
Couple killas on my team
I be burnt out, p*ssed, spill some Wok on my jeans
I be stepping in Margielas when I pull up to the scene