Blocked Em In - Shad Da God

They tried to run off with the flame and I blocked em' in

I swear yo hoe gon' get that flav if Im on her head (whew)

Pulled up in that fifteen thing

And I ain’t goin' in if I can’t bring my whoolie in

If I can’t get it then my whole got the whoole in

Ain’t no sans or no percs then you ain’t cruisin' in

I might just hit your blunt depending what you smoking in

Preferably a backwood stuffed both ends

Stuffed both ends of the backwoods in this motherfucker

You do my job that mean we flame brothers

I pull one bitch she pull up on me with six others

You know I ride with that mail get shit

Pouring up some syrup that make my sprite another color

I put her in a sixty she can’t be my hoe unless she freaky like she from

rocafeller

Cartier this shit, I got real shooters

So I don’t condone the beef shit

Bankroll mafia in a three six

I got hoes watching me like Netflix

Shit, Pull up at the spot make a sick flick

Hit my cali number when you pulling off the exit

Yeah we got the same jeweler you got wack shit

My neck click, while yo bitch up like Brett Flick

Let me find out she really got these hoes arrested

Cuffing on em is a major violation, cause we chop em up then its segregation

She must got something to put on one of these bracelets

Muddy time what water in the face shit

Old hundreds in the middle hundreds

Purple drank red drank I let the green slump me

I let the yellow slump me

They tried to run off with the flame and I blocked em' in

I swear yo hoe gon' get that flav if Im on her head (whew)

Pulled up in that fifteen thing

And I ain’t goin' in if I can’t bring my whoolie in

If I can’t get it then my whole got the whoole in

Ain’t no sans or no percs then you ain’t cruisin' in

I might just hit your blunt depending what you smoking in

Preferably a backwood stuffed both ends

Ain’t shit sweet, not letting a bitch go

The lean sweet, Im on some crisco

All these hoes cold blooded and my wrist cold

Bay area kush, Frisco

I fuck with white girl that snort coke the disco

I fuck with black girls that do her the Guwop

And we never gave a fuck about that rap check

We’ll go back inside that motherfuckin shoe box

Balenciaga high top, right now I got on Rebok

GS6 I’m riding round with the G Lock

I got a twelve band jug on my line right now

I let these streets turn me to a fuckin' cash cow

James Brown all that shit I wear that black and proud

I got them trappers with me right now

They say they Snootie Wild

You ain’t shit if you ain’t never been geeked out

For that gas and that drank I got a sweet spot

If I let up on these pussies I’m granting wishes

I used to put pounds in a expedition

I know you heard bout the guys I forgot to mention

All these hoes we ran through

We ride with two or three bangers for

Sick of the AP I’m bout to go Harry Winston

Put some diamonds in that bitch look like Bill Clinton

They tried to run off with the flame and I blocked em' in

I swear yo hoe gon' get that flav if Im on her head (whew)

Pulled up in that fifteen thing

And I ain’t goin' in if I can’t bring my whoolie in

If I can’t get it then my whole got the whoole in

Ain’t no sans or no percs then you ain’t cruisin' in

I might just hit your blunt depending what you smoking in

Preferably a backwood stuffed both ends