Free Dem Boyz Pt. 2 - 42 Dugg

Free them boys, free them boys forever

(Section 8 just straight cooked this motherfucker up)

My lil' brother like eight, he ten

Got one-fifty on 8 Mile

My dirtbike’s on 10 Mile, no friends now

Problems, I let them kill me

Clap one time y’all feel me (Bitch)

Clap one time y’all hear me (Bitch)

Clap one time you filthy (Rich)

Bag touched down at sixty

Back on with a

Bitch, watch me climb from the bottom

Ion’t wanna fuck, I’m fucked up

Ayy, if you ain’t fucked them, you fucked us

Five hundred thousand made off YouTube

Whole gang get a chain, on 42

Made lil' youngins with a name, gon' blow too

Arguin' with the, graduate school

I keep tellin' Quez, «Nigga, you don’t want it like me»

«Want a Trackhawk?

Get you one like me»

I been missin' Lou since 2019

'21 coupe, this is not a '19

And life been crazy, I ain’t seen my baby

Said I have money, bitch prolly still hatin'

Ayy, momma, I miss you, in here with these pictures

Gettin' far from rap, gettin' closer to the kitchen

Still fuck these niggas, all about my gang

Still on Dugg, gon' be hard for me to change

«Ion't fuck with Dugg,» nigga know that shit was lame

They gon' speak about it though

Tell she been fuckin' by the sneakers by the door

I ain’t thinkin' about a ho, got the bag and the cash

'Cept my bud, thirty-eight for the grass

'Cept my Bloods, whole team full of rats

Better have a camera, nigga, talkin' 'bout pressin'

These hoes messy, can’t trust shit, I fuck a bitch bestie

Still on the six-five, down to the seven

Big ass crib, me and used to get it

Fuck around and lose service, I ain’t chillin', I’m servin'

Steady sippin' on syrup, reason I move slow

Put that on my son, fentanyl, then I go

Feel off twice, got back off dope

Done doin' life, can’t wait to come home

Niggas ain’t with me, do this shit on my own

Correct me if I’m wrong but it’s fuck niggas

'Cause home was up with 'em

RIC happy I made it, I can tell

Back home from a L

Still free Nell, still free Merey

When they’re hatin', I love it

My uncle, nigga, and my brothers

We made it, bitch, used to struggle

Now it’s fuck, now whenever that bag touch

Shoot for every day, for like nine months

I’m grateful, doggy, I ain’t had nothin'

Put all out, I won’t have nothin'

This Louis here and these Mike’s

Them thirty pointers on my whites

She fuck good but I’m scared

Maybe 'cause I still remember Paris

That was our bitch, now she theirs

I ain’t trippin' on shit though, she a big ho

Ride '21 Track' with the tint on

Y’all the type of niggas I shit on

Still big 4's, free them boys