Kishore Kumar Hits

Baby Mane - Criss Cross lyrics

Artist: Baby Mane

album: Criss Cross


J-J-Jester made this

Easy a million

Strapped up in a zoobie
Your homie he turned to a pack, he up in that zoot
Swear that we clutchin', my niggas, they bussin' them bullets
They comin' straight out of that roof
Push-bikes and dingers
We hangin' it off of the ped, hop out and shoot
You know it's a mission, we dodgin' these piggys
They watchin' the way, that we move
Watch the way that I lick shots
G-Wing or that C-Wing
Slice it up like it's crisscross
We in the trap with them big rocks
Outta town gettin' trappy
Call me Sosa, I flip rocks
The Rollie glide, it don't tick-tock
Free the guys, they can't stop clocks
Feds say we can't talk violence, it's all I know, I'm a driller
I didn't make, I didn't make no tunes for a dancer, I make bangers for a killer
Fell in love with the 12-gauge ting, but bro fell in love with the six-shot spinner
Go halves on a paigon, dish, if I catch him bro, finish him for dinner
I can count what's left of the gang with my hands
But it's calm, cah we still catch bodies
Bro doin'-bro doin' normal stabbings
Push all the way, man, do that properly
Bang, bang-bang like Rocky
Slide like hockey, I make man, shocky
Only had one bell in the chamber
And made man's head b- s- like noddy
Provide me a drop
I'll load it up and make this steel beat like Banglez
Any estate bro's got an angle
I'll fly out the ride tryna show man angles
Catch him, grab him, swipe his ankles
Holes in and out mans top
Two hands on his neck like a man got strangled
Tryna hold back that blood, what a shambles
Strapped up in a zoobie
Your homie he turned to a pack, he up in that zoot
Swear that we clutchin', my niggas, they bussin' them bullets
They comin' straight out of that roof
Push-bikes and dingers
We hangin' it off of the ped, hop out and shoot
You know it's a mission, we dodgin' these piggys
They watchin' the way, that we move
Watch the way that I lick shots
G-Wing or that C-Wing
Slice it up like it's crisscross
We in the trap with them big rocks
Outta town gettin' trappy
Call me Sosa, I flip rocks
The Rollie glide, it don't tick-tock
Free the guys, they can't stop clocks
I wish man try run up on me
Like I run up in yards for the grub and P's
OT, my ching-ching so bleaky
I was in the T with a WAP on me
How many men want me dead? Like 50
Pop Smoke, I got it on me
My solicitor's telling me, "Lay low"
The opps would love if they hear, "Free me"
Drills get-drills get done on the mains
They, baby, don't want none of that fame
Do a drill, bake off, all habibtis
Smile on my face, like, "How was your day?"
How many times did I change my number every time I use me a gun or blade?
And more time, I got it on me
I'd have to be fried, if I hopped out bait
Wait, pissed, cah they seen my face
And every time they olympic race
And I don't know nuttin' 'bout runnin'
I was on my ten toes up on estates
Bait, slave only for Allah, django
All the feds wanna see me caged, then
Then, the day they free Chubz and gang-gang
That's the last of the stress on my plate
Strapped up in a zoobie
Your homie he turned to a pack, he up in that zoot
Swear that we clutchin', my niggas, they bussin' them bullets
They comin' straight out of that roof
Push-bikes and dingers
We hangin' it off of the ped, hop out and shoot
You know it's a mission, we dodgin' these piggys
They watchin' the way, that we move
Watch the way that I lick shots
G-Wing or that C-Wing
Slice it up like it's crisscross (crisscross)
We in the trap with them big rocks
Outta town gettin' trappy
Call me Sosa, I flip rocks
The Rollie glide, it don't tick-tock
Free the guys, they can't stop clocks
J-J-Jester made this

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