Black Inca - Gunplay

Dyin' over pigeons

Tryna get fly

I’m ridin', is you with it?

Don’t ask a nigga why

Tired of the prayin' and the wishin'

Indictments in my kitchen

Whippin' up my vision

Lord, let me get mine

Few hitters owe me favors

Finna make you famous

Pull up on you whippin'

Empty clips up out the chamber

Knockin' pictures off the wall

And wakin' up the neighbors

Run off with the work

You gettin' hurt, can’t nothin' save ya

Cuttin' off my conscience

Gettin' on some Dom shit

Orchestrate the hit

And get to grinnin' on some calm shit

Heard what happened, aw shit

Play it cool, guitar shit

Pop me a motherfucker

Ain’t talkin' no bomb shit

Die tryna have that

Crib with the rider

Side buddy died in the backyard of the hideout

Heard they brought a black AR with the died out

Told me they ain’t care

They gon' have the whole crowd out

Dyin' over pigeons

Tryna get fly

I’m ridin', is you with it?

Don’t ask a nigga why

Tired of the prayin' and the wishin'

Indictments in my kitchen

Whippin' up my vision

Lord, let me get mine

Reportin' live from the trenches

Swingin' for the fences

Schemin' on revenges

On some old friendses

Penitentiary chances

High paid defenses

This how I escape convictions

I’m whipping up my vision

Bully beef and ganja

Now I’m pullin' forms up

Ridin' with the doors up

Pour the pint, dozin'

Lucky now I’m chosen

Pena got murdered

Mama never got closure

But that’s the way I goes

Still jerkin' blooker

Crucial with the cooker

Floatin' in the ghost

Throwin' deuces out the window

Six phones, speak in codes

Plug say comprendo

Touchin' down, choppin'

They like buttons on Nintendo

Dyin' over pigeons

Tryna get fly

I’m ridin', is you with it?

Don’t ask a nigga why

Tired of the prayin' and the wishin'

Indictments in my kitchen

Whippin' up my vision

Lord, let me get mine