TUSSI

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

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

Bullets are Hollow
All your bargain falls from a comb
We entered through your window
Bastard, 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 return the purple Fanta Boy
I'm connected with the Dealers and the junkies boy
I'm connecting dots and making commas everywhere I go
I have my Blocky, I don't give a damn about whoever you come with, boy
I aim at the coconut and Floyd's complex takes it away

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

The face covers when it touches, it doesn't stop the insta
I enter with my Moors, my gambis, 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 Rusi
The bags are from Gucci
Whores want tussi
Gangsters love my music

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

Meeny, mani, miny, moe, Skinny took your hoe
Stop asking me things nigga, cause I don't know
They walk 'on 'em Tippy Toes, the shots are anonymous
Your brother's name and snitch are two 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 went wrong, man, they came out twisted
I have the newly operated AK-47

I have the cone, Diddy puts it on you
We are making banknotes of all colors
I'm from Smith & Wesson and Glope, Flow Al Capone
You're into sucking cock and climbing the ladder

The Glope are from Rusi
The bags are from Gucci
The whores want tussi
Gangsters love my music

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