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Brims In The Spot

Ty Flex
Popularity ยท Low
๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ง English ยท Original

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Lyrics

Me and my guys gotta make it hot Callin up Zah he gon create a block Heard that these folk niggas talk a lot Bend my block and you catchin' a couple shots Tryna spin back, you get laid too Tryna ball, yeah I wanna play too Tell your mans (?) stop chattin' Leave a hole in his face like a bagel Please do not run up get dun up Tryna play we gon melt you like butter In the spot it was me and my brothers Only the real I can't fuck with no other I remember them days in the summer Juggin and trappin them racks we gon run up Movin work he get torched for a come up Play my position im posted with guns tucked And (?) keep talking get hurt too Keep jackin that and get put in the dirt too If you throw up the L you get merked too L up like (?) you get put on a shirt too Tazzo the B on the beat so they envy me I count up the racks we got plenty B I dont show no love or no sympathy And your bitch on my dick she a (?) Zah B im back on my bully My clip is on fully I know the opps hate me Run down with the 2 point 5 then i let 2 fly My gun got no safety They droppin the hat they dont move (?) Woo and Blick is not really in the streets (?) got left in the street there wasn't no beef I know the folks sick of me (?) got booked now look they shook And they ain't toting no blickys Ain't tryna run down these niggas is clowns And they ain't dump when they seen me Me and Ty Flex spinning in Ubers (?) Operation bitch ya'll niggas is losers Operation bitch ya'll niggas is losers Ill run up in all black, (?) Then i hit his ass with the 4-Mac (?) If he movin then we on that And we all GDK cause you know that we all hat Three hits knock his ball cap And niggas say they touched me you know that its all cap (?) Fuck getting out the hood, im tryna touch the whole rack 4 deep and we all pack We jacking QP so you know that we never lack One shot and it hit his back Now everybody stone cold cause his boy ain't have the strap EBK you niggas rat Now everybodys throwing (?) Gang, gang, gang, gang Bullets melt through his face like candle wax (?) then you getting whacked Tell the Kirk suck my dick when you getting back Woo and Blick dont talk cause you getting slapped When yall see us you better go chase em (?) (?) If he dead man down thats a headtap We finish we left and he getting smacked The glizzy all right ain't no spinning back Spin the B or the (?) then you getting whacked Spin the block with the chop that dismiss you Got bullets in this chop thatll rip you Throw a (?) shoot his bitch too Leave her dad layin down with a pistol Fuck a issue, watch how i hit you Watch how I flip you Ty Flex from the B side Yall know how i tweak i bend with like 3 nines That chopper bullets Shots to his chest now his body walking Now his body talking Ain't for the talk, have his mom blicking like (GDK) Do you remember me? You came to my block you got stomped with no arteries You think im retarded B? This glizzy im toting might rip through your arms and knees Now its back to the street shit I call up the bloods, I fuck with like 3 crips Dont mention Ty Flex why the gun? Hold the big .38 to his lungs Keep on talking ima shoot him in his lungs Keep on talking ima shoot him in his lungs (gang)