Lyrics to Spazz
Spazzed out, the homie pulled his gat, then he blacked out
Clapped out, jumped in this Benz, then he smashed out
Crash out, them CA exempt car tags out
She always talkin' 'bout these millions, oh, what's that 'bout?
Cash flow, if you ain't got it, you'll go flat broke
You blew all the money, what the fuck you do that for?
Mastro's, want the butter cake and the Wagyu
I ain't gotta do it, shit, my lil' niggas'll pack you
Initiated, got my hood tatted, it's abbreviated
When the homie snitched, I was humiliated
My last ho, baby gave me everything I asked for
But she ran off when I got down to my last dough
I'm up now, everybody so hard to trust now
Dealin' with the hate way more than the love now
Let guns down, squabble with your homie, just don't stomp him out
'Cause that's an easy way to get you bust down
Touchdown, try to block my food, oh, you lunch now
At a function in the hood, gettin' drunk now
You on now, that's why these fuck niggas want you gone now
To every real nigga fresh out, welcome home now
We gon' keep poppin' champagne, we gon' keep lookin' good, and we gon' stay dangerous
I don't know why you actin' tough over there, boy
You know when we was little, your mama wouldn't let you hang with us (It's Remble)
That man told and they didn't even offer time yet
I know he snitched and he didn't even drop the dime yet
These people changed, you can watch it on your Timex
A cold snake, I wonder how you haven't died yet
He kept swinging, so I hit him with the sidestep
Like, silly rabbit, why would you go against my TEC?
A bodybuilder, I can see it in your biceps
A street fighter, you should get rid of that mindset
Take these shells, let it go up the stair
Your homies go to cemeteries, you can follow them there
We shot him out his True Religion, he could squabble a bear
I bring a gun to every fight, I am not squabbling fair
Ruth's Chris after missions, bro, you gotta be player
You shouldn't feel the need to speak if you don't have any paper
How did you let them catch you slippin', bro? You gotta be safer
You tried to give out all those fades and then you ended up tapered, Remble
L.A., The Bay, New York, Detroit
Miami, Atlanta, New Orleans, Dallas
Portland, Seattle, Phoenix, Alabama
Cleveland, Minnesota, New Jersey, we takin' off (Like I said, who gon' find me first?)
Clapped out, jumped in this Benz, then he smashed out
Crash out, them CA exempt car tags out
She always talkin' 'bout these millions, oh, what's that 'bout?
Cash flow, if you ain't got it, you'll go flat broke
You blew all the money, what the fuck you do that for?
Mastro's, want the butter cake and the Wagyu
I ain't gotta do it, shit, my lil' niggas'll pack you
Initiated, got my hood tatted, it's abbreviated
When the homie snitched, I was humiliated
My last ho, baby gave me everything I asked for
But she ran off when I got down to my last dough
I'm up now, everybody so hard to trust now
Dealin' with the hate way more than the love now
Let guns down, squabble with your homie, just don't stomp him out
'Cause that's an easy way to get you bust down
Touchdown, try to block my food, oh, you lunch now
At a function in the hood, gettin' drunk now
You on now, that's why these fuck niggas want you gone now
To every real nigga fresh out, welcome home now
We gon' keep poppin' champagne, we gon' keep lookin' good, and we gon' stay dangerous
I don't know why you actin' tough over there, boy
You know when we was little, your mama wouldn't let you hang with us (It's Remble)
That man told and they didn't even offer time yet
I know he snitched and he didn't even drop the dime yet
These people changed, you can watch it on your Timex
A cold snake, I wonder how you haven't died yet
He kept swinging, so I hit him with the sidestep
Like, silly rabbit, why would you go against my TEC?
A bodybuilder, I can see it in your biceps
A street fighter, you should get rid of that mindset
Take these shells, let it go up the stair
Your homies go to cemeteries, you can follow them there
We shot him out his True Religion, he could squabble a bear
I bring a gun to every fight, I am not squabbling fair
Ruth's Chris after missions, bro, you gotta be player
You shouldn't feel the need to speak if you don't have any paper
How did you let them catch you slippin', bro? You gotta be safer
You tried to give out all those fades and then you ended up tapered, Remble
L.A., The Bay, New York, Detroit
Miami, Atlanta, New Orleans, Dallas
Portland, Seattle, Phoenix, Alabama
Cleveland, Minnesota, New Jersey, we takin' off (Like I said, who gon' find me first?)
