Spazzing Out - Key Glock

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Uh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Uh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

(Ayy this that shit right here, dawg)

Uh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Okay

Ayy, this shit crack

Ayy, Juice, this shit hot

On God, on God, ayy

First things first, never too much money

I’m sippin' on some purp', thumbing through these blue hundreds (Yah)

Bitch, I ain’t tryna flirt, you gon' let me fuck or somethin'?

Yah

Glizzock in her tummy, I’m an animal, Jumanji, uh

Please don’t run up on me, yeah, show me my opponent, yeah

You niggas jabronis, and not only that, you phony, yeah

You niggas don’t want it, uh, go’n and board little homie

All that bullshit, don’t condone it, shoot you, I’m an organ donor, yeah

If you play with me, bitch, I’m goin' out like Tony

Carbon in the front seat when I’m riding 'round lonely

I get money in my sleep so I wake up money hungry

Told that bitch I play for keeps, you can’t play me like no dummy

Key Glock, how you get the foreign?

Bitch, backends off of touring

Where you put all of that money?

Damn, your bankroll enormous

I be shittin', I need some Charmin

I be killin' all my targets

Smokin', smellin' like I farted

Damn, I just funked up the party

Big pints, no bottles, uh, drinkin' 'til tomorrow, yeah

Yeah, bitch I get dollars, uh, I’m a don dada, yeah

Harlem GlobeTrotter, uh, shoot you and your partner, uh

Racks in my pocket got me walking with a wobble, yeah

Lean with it, rock with it

Sippin' on some Wock' ('Hardt)

Motherfuck the cops, uh (Nigga)

Tell 'em suck a cock, yeah

Bitch I send shots, uh (Nigga)

Nigga I don’t box, yeah

You know I cannot, not stop gettin' this guap

I pulled up with the top off, made her panties drop, yeah

Fucked your future wife in my Gucci flip-flops

Talkin' 'bout can she spend the night?

Bitch, kick rocks

Talkin' 'bout can she spend the night?

Bitch, I think not, uh (What the fuck?)

Hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up

I be spazzin'

You ready?

Ayy, this shit sound so motherfuckin' fire

Ayy, check this out, ayy

Dope boy shit, got my Air Max on, yeah

Riding down the block, grippin' on my chrome, yeah

You know what I got, bitch, my money long, yeah

Bitch, it’s big Glock, these hoes love my songs, uh

Yup, yup, yup, yup