[Intro]
Hol’ on
What?
Damn, grrt
Ha

[Verse 1: CR77]
Yesterday, a n***a fucked up my brother
I swear to god, we don’t even like each other
I swear to god, I barley even know him
I swear to god, he ain’t even see me yet
Like, word to bro, I’m ‘boutta spin through the block
He cannot run through unless I got the Glock
Everything dead till I fuckin’ die
Everything dead till I fuckin’ fly
And, I know that will never happen, that’s a metaphor
I swear to god that all y’all n***as gonna see the floor
I swear to god, whoever touched my brother finna gеt hit
I swear to god, my brothers always need protection

[Chorus: CR77]
Yеah, n***a, where the freak you go?
I swear to god, I’m finna shoot you in your throat
Yeah, n***a, better not run when I’m here
Better not stay in fear
Yeah, n***a, shit gon’ be over when I light you
Shit gon’ be over when I fuckin’ fight you
Yeah, n***a, I’ma Mike Tyson your ear, like he did that one n***a
I forgot his name, but
[Post-Chorus]
Look, I’m finna spin through the block, they cannot do nothin’
I got me the G-Lock
They understand what I do for the streets now
And now, I’m goin’ up, you cannot-, wait

[Verse 2: CR77]
I said, I’m spinnin’ through the block, but they can’t do nothin’
I swear to god, I got me a fuckin’ muffin
I swear to god, I’m ‘boutta shoot you in your fuckin’ muffin wit’ the muffin I got
It’s brand new, too
I swear to god I got the microphone in the Stu’
I swear to god, I might just start Shootin’ music videos
You don’t shoot No videos cause you ain’t outside, you always in your house, sittin’, relaxin’
I swear to god, the only time you got out your house was to fight my brother
You always beat my brother up, but now I’m gonna cover
I swear to god, I’m undercover like a fuckin’ police officer outside
I swear to god, I’m always out here in these streets
I spin your block, you ain’t nowhere to be seen
I swear to god, I’m ‘boutta fuckin’ protect my bro
I swear to god, everything dead, what the freak you be doin’?

[Bridge: CR77]
Like, if you don’t see what I do, then you really don’t have no clue
They really understand what I do, but they don’t really do shit, unless I got the G
[Verse 3: CR77]
Huh, they don’t really have a clue once I step in the booth
They don’t really have a clue, unless I step in the booth wit’ maximum force in my fuckin’ voice
They don’t really understand it
They really got the damage to they fuckin’ brain, bitch
I got the G-Lock, everything dead, don’t try to fuckin’ run, bitch
Yeah, n***a, where the fuck you go?
I swear to god, you is not no goat
Yeah, n***a, where the freak you go?
Like, stupid n***a, where the freak is your pole?
Yeah, n***a, why you fight my brother? Come and fight me
I swear to god, I’m more protective than my brother is
Yeah, n***a, where the freak you go?
And I swear to god, I’m ‘boutta up and click it, yeah

[Chorus: CR77]
Yeah, n***a, where the freak you go?
I swear to god, I’m finna shoot you in your throat
Yeah, n***a, better not run when I’m here
Better not stay in fear
Yeah, n***a, shit gon’ be over when I light you (Huh?)
Shit gon’ be over when I fuckin’ fight you (Wait)
Yeah, n***a, I’ma Mike Tyson your ear, like he did that one n***a (Cook)
I forgot his name, but

[Verse 4: CR77]
I’m about to cook this n***a in a second
Fightin’ n***as brothers is the last thing you should be doin’
What about your fuckin’ wife? You got a wife and kids
You is thirty-five years old, I know you feelin’ bad
Aye, bro, stop talkin’, I know you really do shit
But you don’t really do shit, not as long as I’m outside
I swear to god, I’m always outside with the knocka’
I swear to god, I’m always outside catchin’ Flockas
You don’t understand what I do here, you don’t understand what me and my family go through
When we was in poverty, we always do this shit
We always make it out, and now I’m finna make it for ‘em
I’m finna make some money in the fuckin’ studio
Rappin’ on these beats, you can’t understand me, bro
Rappin’ on these beats, you can’t understand me, hoe
You understand all the fuckin’ other hoes
But, you don’t understand what I’m saying on the lyrics
You don’t understand lyricism at its finest
Yuh, you don’t understand lyricism, you really don’t understand it
I’m gonna do an exorcism on your body, when you fucking Dialotti
I’m ‘boutta spin the block, you cannot be Biasotti
I swear to everything that I’m finna Diasotti your fuckin’ brain outta your fuckin’ skull, bitch
[Outro]
Yesterday, somebody fucked up my brother
Aye, grrt
Baow
Yuh!