R3 Da Chilliman - Woc Pint Freestyle
[Intro]
()
[Verse]
If this bullet don't hit his head, it's gon' whack his spine
I specialize in 211s and 459s
Mama know I got a problem, I'm obsessed with weapons
I was taking mugshots, I ain't learn my lesson
Now I'm blowing ten bands at the Gallery
I fuck model hoes, a bum bitch can't get next to me
Joint of the year, it ain't a nigga ahead of me
They copy drip, but they can't figure the recipe
In the field looking for chinky, we need them bucks
Hands in the air, I got a stick, if you move, I bust
Where the Perc'? Where the Wock'? I need my drugs
I told that bitch she might fold, she can keep her love
He talkin' like he Mad Max and he don't got a pole
I'm really walkin' niggas down in designer clothes
These ain't the regular Air Forces, these say Supreme
I'm on the block with a Glock, the stick hanging out my jeans
Smell like a pound of zaza and some Dior cologne
Got niggas in the club with ski masks, you know what time we on
I'm a nigga in my hood, never gave a statement
They smelled the Cookies when we arrive, real Gary Payton
Your nigga scared to come around, we got him pressured up
I'm killing niggas 'bout my chains, but you can test your luck
I boogie down on any nigga, I don't need no mask
I'm trigger-happy, if we beef, you can't get no pass
I strip niggas for they jewels, you better hide your watch
PJ just called me on FaceTime with a pint of Wock'
We the niggas that made niggas wanna get some money
I don't want that pussy, you fuck niggas who broke and bummy
Better duck your head, we got choppers with beams
He must ain't heard I'm passin' out angel wings
High-speed type of niggas, the police can't make us stop
You don't gotta ask, you know I'm equipped with a Glock
()
[Verse]
If this bullet don't hit his head, it's gon' whack his spine
I specialize in 211s and 459s
Mama know I got a problem, I'm obsessed with weapons
I was taking mugshots, I ain't learn my lesson
Now I'm blowing ten bands at the Gallery
I fuck model hoes, a bum bitch can't get next to me
Joint of the year, it ain't a nigga ahead of me
They copy drip, but they can't figure the recipe
In the field looking for chinky, we need them bucks
Hands in the air, I got a stick, if you move, I bust
Where the Perc'? Where the Wock'? I need my drugs
I told that bitch she might fold, she can keep her love
He talkin' like he Mad Max and he don't got a pole
I'm really walkin' niggas down in designer clothes
These ain't the regular Air Forces, these say Supreme
I'm on the block with a Glock, the stick hanging out my jeans
Smell like a pound of zaza and some Dior cologne
Got niggas in the club with ski masks, you know what time we on
I'm a nigga in my hood, never gave a statement
They smelled the Cookies when we arrive, real Gary Payton
Your nigga scared to come around, we got him pressured up
I'm killing niggas 'bout my chains, but you can test your luck
I boogie down on any nigga, I don't need no mask
I'm trigger-happy, if we beef, you can't get no pass
I strip niggas for they jewels, you better hide your watch
PJ just called me on FaceTime with a pint of Wock'
We the niggas that made niggas wanna get some money
I don't want that pussy, you fuck niggas who broke and bummy
Better duck your head, we got choppers with beams
He must ain't heard I'm passin' out angel wings
High-speed type of niggas, the police can't make us stop
You don't gotta ask, you know I'm equipped with a Glock
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