Opp List ft. MBM Ricky Lyrics

Yeah, let's go, uh, uh, you hear me, yeah, let's get it, yeah, yeah

I said, smokin' on this straight, and it's warm I can't even hear her, slap the scat pack

It's sports mode and almost hit a tier Hold a four from all the eight, y'all niggas

sippin' beer Slicky Ricky hit your bitch off some Belvedere

Spent your block for about three bucks and you was never there

Call you niggas Ted's, y'all niggas teddy bears

Pussy, if I ever up this bitch, ain't shootin' in the air

Ask Greg and I ain't never, I ain't take it there

Fuck around and get you boxed, and I ain't smokin' a square

Hit a spender, left that bitch alone, she think that I care

Told that bitch she like a bug, put her out my hair

Didn't work with a DDT, hit the dog with a chair

Made that bitch jump on a hound, and I took me a leer

Get you pool shots, stay out in New York, if I call it a Shamir

Ayy Buzzy, get you pool shots, stay out in New York, if I call it a Shamir

Big 19, my first one at the tail

Paperwork? Nah, cause I ain't never tell

I was only 16 years old when I hit the county jail

I was locked down, flaked out only when I couldn't pay the bill

24 hours, that shit was crazy, so I had to get my mom

Had to change, the power in me, I feel destined for the limelight

I been shottin' men, it's lacking, guess you say I had my time

And I'm talkin' here, when I said we got a station

Stand my man, in his chest and sit his ass down, like detention

Sit him down, get a slug, with every motherfuckin' mention

I ain't ever sober, but I don't always feel the tension

Get it touched, stack up off me, all that kid shit get it smacked

Roll like a Dutch, batter for me, you and your army get it whack

They be ridin' for me, so you know they got my back

Y'all bitches wanna smoke with me, I know y'all smoke crack

Ain't no question, tryna break me, but I stay solid, I won't lose

I always took the hardest route, my nigga, I ain't never choose

I just want one, I want my bitches brought in twos

I show love to your hood by makin' t-shirts for your crew

Ayy, it ain't over, tossin' empty bands, bitch

Ayy, I hit your block with this chop like Gras, I rock

And that bitch hold more shells than a pasta box

That's how you chop her, I'ma shot her, let it loose from my cock

You can slide if you want, I can tell you niggas don't

And y'all pussy, really want no smoke, and you think you a sly

But you already know, what's gon' happen if you did

Me and Ricky pop out the cuts and split a motherfucker with

We don't fuck with pigs, we don't

Pray to God, and he washed away my sins

And he did, and he did, and he did

And I'm dunkin' on you niggas, Vince Carter, honey dip