Free Hank (feat. Pooh Shiesty & Roboy) (Explicit)

Free Hank (feat. Pooh Shiesty & Roboy) (Explicit) - Enchanting/Pooh Shiesty/Roboy

Lyrics by：Channing Nicole Larry/Rodney Marcellus Rozier Jr./Lontrell Williams/Elijah Best

Yeah uh

Yeah yeah

Ayy

Trappin' ain't dead these n***as just scared

Yeah

They turn they run to the feds

God

She say Open your eyes I'm like lil' b***h I'm high

Can't you tell that I'm full of them meds

On God

We are down on the scoreboard you gotta forfeit

All of yo' n***as is dead

Come get your ho back that p***y throwback

Blow me up hit me I leave 'em on read

Blaow

I'll f**k on your b***h I don't lay up

I'm rollin' on X just to stay up

Ayy

Skinny b***h but you see that my weight up

Tryna f**k you right now I won't wait up

On God

B***h I'm blowed I been runnin' that cake up

Uh huh

Might speak it to 'em I don't say much

B***h I'm MVP still I don't play much

Titties on the Glock these are no A cups

Uh huh

Woah

They know ain't no ho in my blood

My dad ain't yo' uncle so I ain't yo' cuz

Ayy you know the old me so don't approach me

N***a this ain't what it was

They mad that I done run my sack up

Racks up earned it this s**t out the mud

Cross me and I gotta get payback

No you can't pay that I want it in blood

On God

Free Hank 'til my brother come home

My fellas stay grippin' that chrome uh

B***hes sellin' their cat I sell songs

Done ran up that sack on my phone

I cannot make this s**t up

Boy yo' a*s limp can't get up

Do this s**t for my mama can't give up

N***as fake crop their a*s out the picture

Ayy ayy

I be full of that juice like a pitcher

Uh

You a opp now it ain't nothin with ya

Nuh uh ayy

Yeah it's all from the gang so we get up

Look

Ain't no competition so just give up

Yo' lil' girlfriend go down and she eat up

Bad lil' b***h with a magazine no pages

Yeah yeah

You lil' n***as be broke makin' no wages

B***h go talk to God if you need savin'

Ayy big brr

Tote the chop with the box got cable

Tried to run up now he disabled

Can't walk

Drop A Body ENT my label

Co sign

If I ain't do it myself I paid him

On God

Every gun got a drum and a laser

And a scope

Yo' shooter ain't s**t just trade 'em

Gotta go

He got hit up close cremate 'em

Brr

N***a won't tote Drac' 'til I made him

Brr brr on God

Yeah yeah

FN on the stove when I cook up

I cook up

Hundred deep at the show when they book up

Every time I look up

Gave him two to the chest can't sit up

Brr

I told Chant Keep shootin' might get up

Brr brr

If you with me ain't no in the middle

No

DOA couldn't get to the spitter

Can't see in the dark

FOA's want three four killers

Brr

After this four I'ma need a new liver

Let's go

Hit the club out of my body and ain't worry 'bout it 'cause I brought them killers in here

I ain't with all of that talkin' as soon as you start it I bet I'ma finish it here

Whole lotta water on me diamonds dancin' like the Harlem Shake

With a n***a tank on E if they gas 'em we gon' off his face

My shooter one call away this s**t get ruthless goin' hard no play

We ballin' all the way and we ain't hoopin'

Stand up n***a I'm a lion like Lucious stupid

If you think I'm lovin' these groupies use it

If you say you packin' your toolie losin'

N***a that's somethin' I ain't doin'