Tweak sh*t lyrics

[Verse]
Smoke dead n*ggas to the face, come on, b*tch, yeah, we can match
It's a fifty on the Glock, that's why the clip lookin' so fat
Caught that n*gga ass lackin', hollows ate that n*gga back
f*ck the plug, b*tch, I'ma cut him and just walk off with the pack
It's a thirty on my nine, I walk down, don't need a splat
We done popped a couple n*ggas, f*ck the opps, tell 'em it's that
f*ck that dead-ass n*gga, you cryin', can't get him back
You gon' hop on Live tweaking, we gon' pop up, where you at?
I been popped out all weekend, you tweakin', like where you at?
And he be dissin' on the gang, his brain, we dismantle that
Don't think they takin' one of ours, don't worry, we spin it back
Off with his head, knock off his dreads and knock his f*ckin' pelvis back
We drop locations on the daily, they fakin', ain't spin it yet
Can't get him, we get his lady, just go push her fitted back
All that tweakin' on the 'net, I hope you really livin' that
Boy, I be chasing n*ggas down, hope you don't think you runnin' fast
We 'bout drama, we tote choppers, we bring it where your mama at
Hogtie her ass up and put her in his garbage can
Toe tag, body bag, put these hollows on your ass
You know lil' bro, he be on go, he call himself, just blast his ass
Hell nah, we ain't broke, b*tch, we be gettin' to the bag
I f*cked his sister and his BM, now that pus*y n*gga mad
Bro, stop the car, I'm hoppin' out, I jump back in, you mash the gas
I think that b*tch had a lil' turbo, bro be drivin' extra fast
She cryin' for her baby, now jit mama extra sad
But I'm lookin' for jit brother, I can't wait to catch his ass
Can't get one and not the other, f*ck the six, stay extra mag
Catch them groupies, get into it, I'ma stretch one of they ass
I can't take Lil Popeye serious, I know that dude had left his mans
Just 'cause he left him, them boys wet him, now jit in a body bag
Ain't no comin' back from that, lil' pus*y boy, you extra sad
Oh, you a member, such a killer, but you left your f*ckin' mans
Smokin' dude who killed himself, I start to choke, this hella gas
Get in my feelings and smoke Teki, that's when I get extra mad
Thirty-three up in this glizzy, finger-f*ck it extra fast
Catch an opp, I ain't have my gun, I f*cked around and stole his ass
He wanna run with them n*ggas, f*ck it, we gon' smoke his ass
Baby Drac' fit in my pants, I don't need a totin' bag
He wanna run with them n*ggas, f*ck it, we gon' smoke his ass
Baby Drac' fit in my pants, I don't need a totin' bag
[Outro]
Gang sh*t, n*gga, y'all know how we f*ckin' rockin'
No hospital gang sh*t, n*gga, rest up, Ralo
Y'all know how we f*ckin' rockin', n*gga
I ain't gotta say too much
f*ck a n*gga
Jdot Breezy in this b*tch, n*gga
Goofy-ass n*gga, man
n*ggas already know what the f*ck goin' on
Tell a n*gga go pick they mans up
Silly-ass n*gga