O13 - 67, Do Road, LD

Let me tell you about O13, that was rottys and macs and baggy jeans

Queff 'dat roddy at 'dem man, I just watch them crash and skeet

The amount of time we lurked 'round there and not seen not one of them neeks

(not one)

Them man so thirsty, I just ching mans face then skeet (ching, ching, ching)

One minute, his face was looking all fleek

Now it’s looking on leak

'Dem get got then talk on the net, 'dem man just post to police (snitch nigga)

I stay with machines and all of them grease that make them clean

Step 'round 'ere, leave everything red

Make the feds take that scene

Still, let’s lurk on 'dem man 'dere

Thought he’s rendt, then red tears

That one there got a clip on the side

But we rise that one, it’ll drop right there

Like- and- (ha)

When my guys mash that work

One hand on the wheel, one hand on the three two spin

L dip that first (I dip that)

'013 that was Max and, caught him a body (old school)

Trap got bad for the AM

Then hoops went and lost that roddy

674 won a golden boot

And we got that shit out now

Racks galore, shoot and score

Threee waps up;

man do it in style

Do up the hooptie, drive like NASCAR

Swear down that’s like eighty

On a mains with shells on deck, no pasta

My brodi’s straight from Ghana

But he tie up his dreads, no rasta

This shotgun kicks like Ken

The .40 spins on folks like Blanka (blow, blow, blow)

Know what it is if I step on the R’s

'013, .38 big bad shotty 'n' a mac in the back of the car

Set way mash, gonna dip man down 'till his backplate hurt man’s palm

Man know what it is

Man know what you’re on when you see a man jump out the car

Gang

Let me tell you about O13, that was rotty’s and mac’s and baggy jeans

Queff 'dat roddy at 'dem man, I just watch them crash and skeet

The amount of time we lurked 'round there and not seen not one of them neeks

(not one)

Them man so thirsty, I just ching mans face then skeet (ching, ching, ching)

One minute, his face was looking all fleek

Now it’s looking on leak

'Dem get got then talk on the net, 'dem man just post to police (snitch nigga)

I stay with machines and all of them grease that make them clean

Step 'round 'ere, leave everything red

Make the feds take that scene

Guns, money, drugs;

my block’s like The Wire

Go keep me a fry-up

Put the block’s through fire

Feds wanna grab that supplier

Big houses, ammo, wapps;

I desire

Big Mac and a rotty, that was out quaking

Stones rip through skin and flesh

These stones had bones, them breaking

I mean, broken

They run when jooks approaching

Angry when they get away

It get’s so 'ments when feds appraching

Come to a decision (what's the decision?)

Man’s Premier League, 'dem man in division

SAD on your block, man search and destroy on possession

Peng 'ting wanna flirt, I just want-

What’s the decision?

Wet up a man, should have saw his feet

Woulda thought he was Crippin'

I go the juice, but I ate the (yeah, yeah), yeah

Hot young boy, I might drive the in the

Manbag, big jackets, if you really want to see that thingy

Three drils, three days, real life

Hands down the gang-dem get drilly

Let me tell you about O13, that was rotty’s and mac’s and baggy jeans

Queff 'dat roddy at 'dem man, I just watch them crash and skeet

The amount of time we lurked 'round there and not seen not one of them neeks

(not one)

Them man so thirsty, I just ching mans face then skeet (ching, ching, ching)

One minute, his face was looking all fleek

Now it’s looking on leak

'Dem get got then talk on the net, 'dem man just post to police (snitch nigga)

I stay with machines and all of them grease that make them clean

Step 'round 'ere, leave everything red

Make the feds take that scene