TUSSI

The Glope are from Russia
The bags are from Gucci
The bitches want tussi
Gangsters love my music

I'm looking for my money
I don't want gifts
Skinny left the Ghetto
The bastard became a rapper

Bullets are Hollow
From a comb all your gang falls
We entered through your window
Damn, I think I'm a saint
Your shawty says she's holy
And it fits up to his throat

The Rasta brings the Lean and we turn the Fanta Boy purple
I'm connected with the Dealers and the Jonkies Boys
I'm collecting dots and making commas wherever I go
I have my Blocky, I don't give a damn who you come with boy
I aim at his head and he takes it away from Floyd's complex

They talk about shooting and I haven't shot anyone yet
I've been ignoring you, but you're testing me again
You wanted FT. And I didn't give it to you and that hurts you
Flow C, Doublet, motherfucker: That's not Gangsters

The face covers when it touches, it doesn't stop the insta
I enter with my Moors, my camis, terrorist flow
Why are you staring at me so much? Do you need an eye doctor?
Sometimes I even forget that I am an artist

The Glope are from Russia
The bags are from Gucci
The bitches want tussi
Gangsters love my music

I'm looking for my money
I don't want gifts
Skinny left the Ghetto
The bastard became a rapper

Meeny, mena, miny, moe, Skinny took your home
Ask me things nigga, cuzqueños I don't know
They walk' on 'em Tippy Toes, the shots are anonymous
Your brother's name and snitch are 2 synonyms

I am the voice of the street and of those locked up
You are the voice of the toads, of those who have mocked
A couple of friends got twisted, crazy, they came out twisted
I have the AK-47 just operated on

I have the bunny, Diddy puts it on you
We are making fillets of all colors
I am from Smith & Wesson and Glope, Flow Al Capone
You are one to suck cock and climb the ladder

The Glope are from Russia
The bags are from Gucci
Whores want tussi
Gangsters love my music

I'm looking for my money
I don't want gifts
Skinny left the Ghetto
The bastard became a rapper