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• Artiste: BigXthaPlug
• Titre: 600 Degrees
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(Tuned up) (Ayo, Sheff) Ayy 600 the mob and we yet to be fucked with Drop a bag, get him killed in his new 'fit All on the 'net, but in person, ain't do shit I'm the type get him robbed for his new kit Let me chill and just talk 'bout this new shit Two hundred the dash and these diamonds on sick, sick Ayy, your folks used to say you wouldn't be shit When it's war in that field, it get deep, bitch Yeah, it's cool, them boys did what they did But I swear for God y'all should've killed me Ain't do nothin' but make some more money, some millions Only right all them pussy boys fear me I'm a Balenci' guy, really put it on All them niggas around, who you puttin' on? I'm a 600 repper, check every song And, no, I can't give 'em no clout, we just get 'em gone Came a long way from the city, but that don't mean shit 'cause I still got the block on my back Now it hit a lil' different 'cause when I go get me a bag, I ain't gotta go flip me a pack Don't get it fucked up with this rappin' shit, I still'll wrap some shit Go do a show, double bag a bitch Throw a 6 and 8, 600, we crackin' shit Shit we doin', man, this shit, it ain't average X told me rap, man, I can't even go slide Fuck it, I might just go spin one more time I be ready to kill, I don't play about mine Put his face on a tee like a graphic design Hold my wrist up, it's a two-tone Cartier Bitch, I'm up, drop a bag, get him outta here Diamonds hittin', nigga look like a chandelier Brand-new Lam', I hit the gas and we disappear Dots on his top, got him yellin' out, "Bingo" Been gambling with life, nigga, fuck a casino Rap or trap, tryna stay out a RICO They say it was beef, get it chopped with some pico In the club with a Drac', got it tucked in a peacoat Take a rap nigga chain, feel like Deebo Stuck in the game, shit feel like velcro Me let an opp nigga slide? Nigga, hell no Dodgin' the alphabet, still lettin' L go Still the same nigga on the block with no mentor Fuckin' off extras and countin' on Melrose In Miami, I spent 'bout a dub on Lincoln Road Twelve-fifty for shoes, sellin' D for the low It's just too much cappin', don't get killed for an ego Hit the switch on the glick, ain't no need for a reload All the rappin'-ass niggas just actin', CB4 All this bread at the table, shit look like Last Supper Speech disorder, chop got a bad stutter Glock 23 with a thirty, that's double-double Tryna drop everything, Craig's in trouble Black-face Rollie for all of the dark times I know killers that only work part-time Country-ass nigga, I'll step for some moonshine Get life in the sky if you go past this gun line 600 'grees, nigga, go check the Fahrenheit We the type to come shoot up the candlelights Stomach shot fuck up a nigga whole appetite Flower-print earrings shine brighter than panel light Been fed the streets, this shit more like a mukbang 20k on the ground, this shit chump change K5 got a Glock, take the shot Then I slide the paper to him just like a gun range Ain't gon' lie, I wasn't fuckin' with rappin' and shit I was so used to spinnin' and smackin' on shit Now we up, me and my niggas havin' this shit Can't you tell by the plaques, how they platinum and shit? No, I ain't doin' no tusslin', VVS diamond, I'm rockin' this Cullinan I been rappin', them pigs tried to stop me from hustlin' Tryna figure out how to get package through customs That lil' pussy a virgin, ain't got no bodies Put them P's on your head, Andy Milonakis I'm all up in the grow with Lil' Morgan on Wocky In the D with the snipers, on the phone with the foxes You can hear his heartbeat, nigga, go check the stethoscope Stuffin' green in the pack, sellin' medical Chrome Heart 'fit, eight thousand on Melrose 600 mob, nigga, welcome to death row