Camelot

Album: Top Shotta (2019)
Charted: 37
  • Yeah
    (FreshDuzIt)
    Yeah
    Huh, huh, huh

    I ain't gon' say too much when a nigga speakin' on that hot shit (yeah)
    Fuck the police, 'cause them bitches ain't gon' stop shit (they ain't stoppin' shit)
    Oppositions mad, if they play they gettin' popped quick (yeah)
    Flyest nigga in the game, yeah, I'm a cockpit
    Posted on Camelot, wit' a hunnid some' shots
    I be swimmin' wit' the sharks, lil nigga you a lobster (lobster)
    Bullets heat a nigga up, like he eatin' on some pasta (some pasta)
    And shout out to Kingston, I keep me some Rastas (yeah, yeah, gratt)
    My niggas trappin' out the bando (huh), shoutout to the Migos (the Migos)
    If a nigga knock wrong, shoot him through the peephole (yeah, yeah, gratt)
    The trap always open, bitch we ain't never closed (never closed)
    We movin' them packs and we movin' them kilos

    Step one, step two, do my dance in this bitch (huh, huh)
    Got a hunnid some' drums like a band in this bitch (bap, bap, bap, bap)
    Mane she keep on bitchin', all that naggin' and shit
    Hoe shut the fuck up and jus' gag on this dick
    I'm a side nigga, and I love when she swallow (yeah)
    If a nigga say something, hit him wit' a hollow
    That glizzy (yeah), knock ya meat out ya taco
    Flexin' on ya bitch, they call me Johnny Bravo (bap, bap, bap, bap, bap)
    School of hard knocks, let me take you to class (yeah)
    My bitch is real skinny but she got a lot of ass (huh, huh, yeah, yeah)
    I love counting money, I get a lot of cash
    If you try to take it from me, his toe gon' have a tag

    I ain't gon' say too much when a nigga speakin' on that hot shit
    Fuck the police, 'cause them bitches ain't gon' stop shit
    Oppositions mad, if they play they gettin' popped quick
    Flyest nigga in the game, (bitch) yeah, I'm a cockpit
    Posted on Camelot, wit' a hunnid some' shots
    I be swimmin' wit' the sharks, lil nigga you a lobster
    Bullets heat a nigga up, like he eatin' on some pasta
    And shout out to Kingston, I keep me some Rastas

    All up in the party (yeah), you know we keep them carbons
    Bring a nigga chills like I work at Baskin-Robbins ('Robbins)
    I love Batman, but a young nigga robbin'
    Firework show, 'cause my niggas get to sparklin'
    I'm a hot head, I'll crash any second (huh, huh, yeah)
    He speakin' on who? Send his bitch ass to heaven (who?)
    Extended clips, when we tote them Mac-11's (yeah, yeah, uh huh)
    My niggas they be crippin', they be screamin' out them seven's (yea, huh, crip)
    Why you investigating me? 'Cause I don't know a thing
    And I'ma always keep a solid, I'll never sang (no no)
    You know I'm Shotta Fam, always gotta rep the gang (Shotta)
    He kept on dissin' so a nigga had to snatch his brain

    Huh
    Had to snatch his brain (had to snatch that nigga brain)
    Huh
    I had to snatch his brain (had to snatch that nigga brain)
    Yeah
    I had to make it rain (make that motha fucka rain)
    Yeah
    R. Kelly let that fuckin' choppa sing, yeah (make it sing) Writer/s: Bryson Potts, Darzell Triplett
    Publisher: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BMG Rights Management
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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