On A Tee (Extended Version) lyrics

by

Icewear Vezzo


[Intro: SpotEmGottem]
(Thanks, Yakree)
f*ck n*gga, back the f*ck up
(T this b*tch up, Tone)

[Chorus: SpotEmGottem]
Slide through the bity, nobody out, tryna put a b*tch on a tee (Ayy)
Face shot, gang in my city wanna terrorize the streets (Go)
Big-ass bullets take down Suburbans and they'll flip a Jeep
No more hot cars, I got it rented for the whole week (Whole week)

[Verse 1: SpotEmGottem]
What's that in the air? Smell like bap, that sh*t there cheap as hell
Can't wait to catch that rappin'-ass n*gga, I'm tryna send my shooter there
Go, dead— yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Dead n*gga
When I tweak out, yeah, his head bigger
Tryna score for two, but they hit for four, f*ck one of them main n*ggas
Or I just call lil' Moe, put some chains on your brain, n*gga
Two n*ggas, they got shh by a Ruger by the same n*gga
Okay, I'm on that car right there, we switchin' lanes, get him
This a leaky blunt, I don't think big Meechie can fit in there
I'm the party starter, get the party started, I'm like, "Yeah"

[Chorus: SpottemGottem]
Slide through the bity, nobody out, tryna put a b*tch on a tee
Face shot, gang in my city wanna terrorize the streets
Big-ass bullets take down Suburbans and they'll flip a Jeep
No more hot cars, I got it rented for the whole week

[Verse 2: Icewear Vezzo]
Hmm, yeah, b*tch, I get to tweakin' out
Pop a bean, caught them boys lackin' when they was eatin' out
Fifty bands stuffed in my 'Miris, we brought them demons out
Send your pus*y ass to the sky so he can see the clouds
Ayy, b*tch, I ain't got no sense
Little switchy on that FN look like a phone chip
Do the opps like back in the day, them n*ggas '06
Why you think we shoot hundred rounds? Because we don't miss
Black Dior shades on my eyes because I lean a lot
Need to quit that syrup right now, it make me pee a lot
f*ck around and rob my plug— mm
I mean, I'll rob my plug for like half 'cause I ain't need a lot
We don't measure drank when we sippin', yeah, we just pour the numbers (Pour it)
Got a dog house in Atlanta, do Robert Horry numbers
Finna cut new Cullinan on Forgis, yeah, that's before the summer (Forgis)
Turn that chopper up like a Hemi, I'm tryna motor something
Hmm, ooh, these n*ggas real rappers
I make music and I drop sh*t, guess I'm a drill rapper
Shoot that glizzy, then clean it off, I got some real manners
Couple million sittin' in the safe, look like a steel cabinet
[Verse 3: SpottemGottem]
Hold on, glick in my palm, get to shootin' this b*tch (Shootin' this b*tch)
Palm Angels all on my ass, Louis on my kicks (All on my ass)
Baby, I'm the don (I'm the don)
We like murder sh*t and you know I'm the one (You know I'm the f*ckin' one)
Aim my switch at you, bet I chi-chi
Dead opp, I just got dead n*ggas in my lungs (Dead n*ggas in my pack)
Throw your set up, n*gga, where you from? (f*ck you bang?)
Get your get back, n*gga, where your gun? (Get your f*ckin' get back)
My trigger finger itchin', this b*tch done got numb (sh*t numb as numb)
Hit his head, his top, chest, hit his lungs (Hit his b*tch ass)
Paralyze this pus*y, faceshot the n*gga, he done
Now his mama crying 'bout her f*ckin' his son ('Bout that b*tch-ass n*gga, ayy)

[Chorus: SpottemGottem]
Slide through the bity, nobody out, tryna put a b*tch on a tee
Face shot, gang in my city wanna terrorize the streets
Big-ass bullets take down Suburbans and they'll flip a Jeep
No more hot cars, I got it rented for the whole week
Slide through the bity, nobody out, tryna put a b*tch on a tee
Face shot, gang in my city wanna terrorize the streets
Big-ass bullets take down Suburbans and they'll flip a Jeep
No more hot cars, I got it rented for the whole week (For the whole week)
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