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Fredo Bang – War Time Lyrics

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[Intro]

(Wait hol’ up, This ABeats)

(Ain’t that DJ Chose over there? Look like DJ Chose)

Come with that motherfuckin’ bag, we gon’ get you together

I’ma tell you

On my mama and yours

Ayy Dolo, we shootin’ outside

[Verse]

First grade, was to myself, I never liked to play

Woke up, grabbed the stick like, “Who gon’ die today?”

When it come to murder, I don’t hesitate

I was in that bottom just the other day

You niggas rap ’bout kids, I’m [?], bring out that yellow tape

Put his feet up in the air, that’s what Osama say

Dissin’ on the ‘net, I’m tryna see how many your [?] take

Every time they comе around, we treat it like a holiday

Aimin’ for his hеad, took off a ear, he ain’t listen anyway

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I might pop out in your section with my weapon, ain’t no checkin’ in

All the killers give me my respect, they know I get it in

Ain’t nothin’ on this bitch, I need her mouth, I tell her, “Get it right” (Get it right)

Clutchin’ on my stick all up in class, you can ask FunnyMike

Ain’t gotta rep on bodies, bitch, I got ’em, if you know you know

Pull up, servin’ niggas door to door, we just like Domino’s

And I know what to do when pussy niggas wanna do the most

Heat ’em, just like strippers, drop a bag, they shakin’ by they toes

Like to spend a ten, if I wanna her bad, I’ll prolly spend a dub

Trollin’ on the ‘Gram to get some fame, that nigga die for a buzz

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Last time we heard him speak, he said he’d come and wipe my nose

They ain’t even cry about that nigga since his funeral (Turn me up)

[Chorus]

It go grrah, what that switch do

Pick your partner up, he a tissue

It go grrah, what that switch do

Pick your dawg up, he a tissue

Grrah, what that switch do

Pick your dad up, he a tissue (Pick your mans up)

Grrah, what that switch do

Pick your cousin up, he a tissue (Pick your mans up)

It go grrah, what that switch do

Pick your partner up, he a tissue

It go grrah, what that switch do

Pick your dawg up, he a tissue

[Outro]

What you mean, Gucci slippers in here?

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Only nigga in the penitentiary with the red Gucci slides, man, that ain’t Blood shit, man

Wait hold up, man, that’s Gucci’s, man

Come, come with that motherfuckin’ bag, we gon’ get you together

I’ma tell you

On my mama and yours

From now on, I got hella investments

Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go

War time


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