Warning Shots - Slim Jesus

Y’all know how the fuck we rockin' man

Whole lotta gang shit bitch

Everybody know my name put respect on it

I justed copped a new whip spent a check on it

Rubberband Cartel

You ain’t really with the shits

Put them Glocks up

Free the gang out that mafuckin' locked up

Like a janitor yo ass can get mopped up

So you better have yo' gun when we Pop up

If I really want you gone

I ain’t gone diss you

I put my shooters on yo' ass

They gone blitz you

We be blasting off those guns like some missiles

I got 50 in this drum I ain’t gone miss you

Steppin' out with my 30 yea', we Pop out

Catch an opp on his ass let them shots out

Wait outside in the whip, 'till he walk out

Gun Shot gun shots now it’s cop sounds

Rob the plug hit his ass with the fake out

Glizzy on me, give a fuck if the jakes out

If you really want smoke, bring the K out

Put his ass in a box, like some take out

Fuck that bitch, then I fuck on her cousin

She give me brain that’s concussion

I been on the map since a youngin

Had to run up a bag, now I’m thumbin'

We ain’t locking bitch, we get to drummin'

40 shells leave you hot like the summer

When we pull up they know how we comin'

When they see us I bet they start running

Got the pack and got robbed, you got nothin'

You ain’t makin' no money quit bluffin'

Stop all of that tweeting you frontin'

My savage will kill you for Nothing

Balmain on my ass cost a G

You ain’t smokin' on gas, that shit weak

If he want a verse, that’s a fee

I fell in love with the blue cheese

If he tweakin' I’ll shoot at a fiend

Try to rob, then I’ll give his ass wings

Goofy ass you can’t run from a beam

The Glock take him right off his feet

It’s a lot of sneak dissin' for some fuckin' clout

Goofy ass don’t lose your life tryna run yo' mouth

He say he got them shooters, tell him bring them out

If he hiding in his crib then we wet his house

I was fucking on his bitch on his momma couch

‘Cause she know I got them bandz in my bank account

I’m not just anybody, I can’t walk around

That’s why I pull up in a foreign with the top down

I be rocking all designer from my head to toe

Let a fuckboy try to rob me, boy I can’t go

I ain’t going for that shit, somebody let him know

If he run up on me wrong i’ma let it blow

Gang gang gang gang

Y’all know how the fuck we rockin' man

Whole lotta gang shit that sane shit

2K17 shit bitch

Rubberband Cartel