Homicide lyrics

[Chorus: Moneybagg Yo]
To f*ck with me you lucky and you know it
Put your phone off, b*tch, you tweakin', tryin' to record
Knew the cross was coming 'fore it happened, I saw it
They throwin' shots, ain't hit sh*t, trying my best to ignore it
She on socials tryna bash me, b*tch tryna get off
He tryna get under my skin and diss me, he tryna get off
You see me but I ain't see you, why you ain't get off?
I catch my man it ain't no question, I'ma get off

[Verse 1: Moneybagg Yo]
Yellow b*tch, yellow diamonds, ooh, I'm p*ssed off
The way she love me and she f*ck me, ooh she gettin' off
He talking hard, approach him, watch how fast he get soft
Rapid fire, nothin' stop him, choppers lettin' off
If I catch you I'm gettin' off
I'm tryna knock your whole sh*t off
You and your mans too, I'll drop the bag on the whole crew
Ben be suffocating, the hundreds they be all blue
I'm on a whole 'nother level, the b*tches, they all-new
Speaking of b*tches, a b*tch tryna get off on Instagram 'cause I fell back
Why you ain't make a post how you f*cked the whole clique, b*tch go tell that, hah
These rappers tryna sneak diss, tryna get off to get on, hah
Catch their ass in public, they gon' get right and get gone

[Chorus: Moneybagg Yo]
To f*ck with me you lucky and you know it
Put your phone off, b*tch, you tweakin', tryin' to record
Knew the cross was coming 'fore it happened, I saw it
They throwin' shots, ain't hit sh*t, trying my best to ignore it
She on socials tryna bash me, b*tch tryna get off
He tryna get under my skin and diss me, he tryna get off
You see me but I ain't see you, why you ain't get off?
I catch my man it ain't no question, I'ma get off
[Verse 2: YoungBoy Never Broke Again]
Before the rap money, young n*gga was ballin' way before it
I don't do no talkin', I drop a bag on 'em then n*gga you know it
I bought me a pint of that Hi-Tech, I crack it and pour it
I crunch up the X, end up in my mouth, you know that I throw it
She all in my section, she steady keep pressin', but no, she don't know it
When I'm up in Texas, I ride with that Wesson, just me and my boys
I swear it's controlling me, seventeen, got four sons
Tryna go cop me 'bout four foreigns
Studio on the bus, I'm touring
I swear I don't put no effort in these songs
Bet these n*ggas p*ssed off, mad at me and Bagg, aw
Grandma gone, I hold it down
No I won't flock, I keep it strong
These b*tches be aching, I steady be raking
So when I'm recording, don't call my phone

[Chorus: Moneybagg Yo]
To f*ck with me you lucky and you know it
Put your phone off, b*tch, you tweakin', tryin' to record
Knew the cross was coming 'fore it happened, I saw it
They throwin' shots, ain't hit sh*t, trying my best to ignore it
She on socials tryna bash me, b*tch tryna get off
He tryna get under my skin and diss me, he tryna get off
You see me but I ain't see you, why you ain't get off?
I catch my man it ain't no question, I'ma get off