Irate lyrics

[Intro: 99Zed & (?), Saliva Grey]
We smoking pressure
(Damn Zed, sh*t's fire)
Shallow Grey (yuhh), shallow Grey, shallow Grey (yuhh)
(YUHHH)

[Verse 1: 99 Zed, Saliva Grey]
A strap on my jeans, a black rag in the backseat
See, we whippin it down the street
Saliva go and roll another please

Buckin like a b*tch I wanna do it for the fame
Motherf*cker see me ain’t got sh*t to f*cking say

Scale it back
Grab the strap I’m running in that b*tch
Another motherf*cker talking sweet I’m finna run this sh*t

Run that sh*t
Light the blunt
I pulled out my double cup
Zed and Grey, can’t be stopped
We about to double up

He had loose lips
I cracked his skull and threw him in a grave
It wasn’t 6 feet, shallow ones for those who pray
Prayin on your knees
'Bout to fear that you’ll survive
Busted up [?] so murderous, he killin for the spite

Your god doesn’t exist, when you die there will be nothing b*tch
Nothing lasts forever your life is impermanent

Waste your f*cking life away
Wanna be like shallow grey
Grab the shovel, watch you dig
Then cover up yo motherf*cking face

Grab the sawed off
Rip his f*cking face off
Warpaint, grip the f*cking hatchet like I'm [?]
On my radar hates so Imma spray the f*cking K uh
Pushers we back in bank
I might go insane b*tch

Yeah, ‘liva coming from the motherf*cking sticks boy
Why is you talking bout me?
I do not exist, boy
Got me an army we the 187 kill
Jugg the money, motherf*cker wit the mask, cuz I’m ill, boy

[Verse 2: Odiato]
We count more stripes than Gucci
I fell em with that uzi
We fade em like he boosie
Don’t touch me, Goblin Ruby
Chopper sing like Toosii
Putin holes right through yo 2 seat
I ate up her coochie made her yell and sh*t like Luigi
I feel like Dr. Dre I'm blowing chronic with my dawgs
I run that sh*t like Sonic, Donkey Kong we smoking logs
She say call me sl*t, I'm like baby yeah of course
You want me for my bread, I just want intercourse
Grab my .40 Glock
[?] the mask pop
I play with the rock
Camo hartt yeah that’s my dawg
Like I'm Blaze I keep a rod
Hitting-and-run
Run it up, jack his son I feel like [?]
Smoking on the pressure and I’m wit my foreign shooter
Then get set up on yo block like I was a booster
Gunshots in the morning wake em up like roosters
Drive by hit yo ankles like a scooter
All these f*cking racks, b*tch I should work at Hooters
All these f*cking rags, tell they homies pray to Buddha
Hits the blinkerton, and he walk out with the ruger
Test the God, make em freeze, I feel like Medusa
[Verse 3: Badkidmizu]
Slidin right in my city cuz I’m in that mood
99 pass me that chop- no, the tool
Cuz when I get that sh*t I leave his ass screwed
She said that I’m nervous but I act too rude
Damn right I'm rude, why aren't you?
[?]
Lock down, lock down, like code blue
[?] like it just got the flu
My aim is impeccable
You n*ggas are b*tches you don’t got no testicles
All of you n*ggas you suck
Not talkin bout octopus tentacle
I spin yo block when I'm drunk of the pentacle
Shoot, him and him too, now I'm a criminal
He said he gon shoot me but that sh*t is fictional
The chop got a drum and a scope as additionals