Broke Opps - King Von

DJ on the beat so it’s a banger

Von

Pull up and get him

That bullet ripped through his tissue and pulled out his gristle

It was the nickel, and it’s a Glock

And that bitch sound like a missile

He know I’m official

Doin' all that woofin' and shit, boy, you know I’ma get you

And when nobody with him

I wore a nine, the shoes, ain’t nobody fit 'em

I popped a Perky and thirty

I’m havin' a bitch, boy, ain’t nobody perfect

If I take a L, I’m back on that corner

I’m hustlin', ain’t nobody servin'

Get booked 'cause somebody workin'

He told, I know that for certain

Get caught, I’m closin' his curtains

We scored another conversion

Designer, Givenchy

All of this ice on my wrist and it feel like it’s Christmas

Speakin' of Christmas, come get your ho

I be climbin' all up in her chimney

We seein' the ho if she friendly

Ain’t see him, he goin', he missin'

Won’t see me in the back of a Bentley

Hop out and I’m blowin', it’s rented

Woke up, ain’t doin' no drive-bys

Your MVP bitch, that bitch my sideline

Just a wild lil' nigga from the South side

Nigga killed your homie, you ain’t even come outside

I fucked your bitch on purpose

Them bros come in, we workin'

My song come on, she twerkin'

All the opps be broke, they hurtin'

My niggas, they too official

Send a text, they get right with you

Y’all was somewhere playin' Monkey in the Middle

We was tryna pull 'em for some guns when I was little

If we still allowed, we gon' meet 'em and then split 'em

On the jail call, gotta talk in the riddle

Ho said she love me, she gon' tap my initials

Nigga move foul, get to blowin' like a whistle

Fuck that, let’s talk about Louis, Amiri, and Gucci and Prada and shit

When I go to the store, they closin' the door and bringin' me bottles and shit

Fuck that, let’s talk about that lil' one-fifty I spent with my lawyer and shit

My gun don’t punch, it kick

Get with this shit or get hit in your shit

Pull up and get him

That bullet ripped through his tissue and pulled out his gristle

It was the nickel, and it’s a Glock

And that bitch sound like a missile

He know I’m official

Doin' all that woofin' and shit, boy, you know I’ma get you

And when nobody with him

I wore a nine, the shoes, ain’t nobody fit 'em

Woke up, ain’t doin' no drive-bys

Your MVP bitch, that bitch my sideline

Just a wild lil' nigga from the South side

Nigga killed your homie, you ain’t even come outside

I fucked your bitch on purpose

Them bros come in, we workin'

My song come on, she twerkin'

All the opps be broke, they hurtin'