LYRIC
[Intro: Stunna 4 Vegas]
*Cross the line, and it’s gun smoke*
[Chorus: Stunna 4 Vegas]
A nigga crossed that line, it’s gun smoke
Bitch, we bust poles (Yeah)
And cut throat (Boom, boom)
We deliver beef right to your front door (Right to your front door)
Might get to tweakin’ in this bitch, we make the people call the po-po
I’m tryna t-shirt me some shit
We turn an opp into a low-go (To a low-go)
Gun on my right hip, if shit go wrong (Pew)
[Verse 1: Stunna 4 Vegas]
He crossed that line, i bust it (Uh)
I still be on that fuck shit, every nigga with me clutchin’ (On gang, bah, bah)
Bitch, get up (Alright, bitch, get up)
Uh, we won’t give no fucks
Dirty stick clip hold a hunnid (Brrt)
I give her dick, and keep it coming (Uh)
He says “it’s up”, we put him under (Let’s go)
Extention clips, i got a bunch
Won’t go for shit, go ask, my momma (On gang)
We spin back to back, like DJ Drama
**Lyrics still in progress.**
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