BigXthaPlug, Ro$ama, Murdagang PB, Yung Hood - 600 DEGREES (Official Visualizer)
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Lyrics: (Tuned up) (Ayo, Sheff) Ayy 600 the mob and we yet to be f•cked with Drop a bag, get him killed in his new ‘fit All on the ‘net, but in person, ain’t do sh•t I’m the type get him robbed for his new kit Let me chill and just talk ‘bout this new sh•t Two hundred the dash and these diamonds on sick, sick Ayy, your folks used to say you wouldn’t be sh•t When it’s war in that field, it get deep, b•tch Yeah, it’s cool, them boys did what they did But I swear for God y’all should’ve killed me Ain’t do nothin’ but make some more money, some millions Only right all them p•ssy boys fear me I’m a Balenci’ guy, really put it on All them n•ggas around, who you puttin’ on? I’m a 600 repper, check every song And, no, I can’t give ’em no clout, we just get ’em gone
Came a long way from the city, but that don’t mean sh•t ‘cause I still got the block on my back Now it hit a lil’ different ‘cause when I go get me a bag, I ain’t gotta go flip me a pack Don’t get it f•cked up with this rappin’ sh•t, I still’ll wrap some sh•t Go do a show, double bag a b•tch Throw a 6 and 8, 600, we crackin’ sh•t Sh•t we doin’, man, this sh•t, it ain’t average
X told me rap, man, I can’t even go slide F•ck it, I might just go spin one more time I be ready to kill, I don’t play about mine Put his face on a tee like a graphic design Hold my wrist up, it’s a two-tone Cartier B•tch, I’m up, drop a bag, get him outta here Diamonds hittin’, n•gga look like a chandelier Brand-new Lam’, I hit the gas and we disappear Dots on his top, got him yellin’ out, “Bingo” Been gambling with life, n•gga, f•ck a casino Rap or trap, tryna stay out a RICO They say it was beef, get it chopped with some pico In the club with a Drac’, got it tucked in a peacoat Take a rap n•gga chain, feel like Deebo
Stuck in the game, sh•t feel like velcro Me let an opp n•gga slide? N•gga, h•ll no Dodgin’ the alphabet, still lettin’ L go Still the same n•gga on the block with no mentor F•ckin’ off extras and countin’ on Melrose In Miami, I spent ‘bout a dub on Lincoln Road Twelve-fifty for shoes, sellin’ D for the low It’s just too much cappin’, don’t get killed for an ego Hit the switch on the glick, ain’t no need for a reload All the rappin’-a•s n•ggas just actin’, CB4 All this bread at the table, sh•t look like Last Supper Speech disorder, chop got a bad stutter Glock 23 with a thirty, that’s double-double Tryna drop everything, Craig’s in trouble Black-face Rollie for all of the dark times I know killers that only work part-time Country-a•s n•gga, I’ll step for some moonshine Get life in the sky if you go past this gun line 600 ’grees, n•gga, go check the Fahrenheit We the type to come shoot up the candlelights Stomach shot f•ck up a n•gga whole appetite Flower-print earrings shine brighter than panel light Been fed the streets, this sh•t more like a mukbang 20k on the ground, this sh•t chump change K5 got a Glock, take the shot Then I slide the paper to him just like a gun range
Ain’t gon’ lie, I wasn’t f•ckin’ with rappin’ and sh•t I was so used to spinnin’ and smackin’ on sh•t Now we up, me and my n•ggas havin’ this sh•t Can’t you tell by the plaques, how they platinum and sh•t? No, I ain’t doin’ no tusslin’, VVS diamond, I’m rockin’ this Cullinan I been rappin’, them pigs tried to stop me from hustlin’ Tryna figure out how to get package through customs That lil’ p•ssy a virgin, ain’t got no bodies Put them P’s on your head, Andy Milonakis I’m all up in the grow with Lil’ Morgan on Wocky In the D with the snipers, on the phone with the foxes You can hear his heartbeat, n•gga, go check the stethoscope
Stuffin’ green in the pack, sellin’ medical Chrome Heart ’fit, eight thousand on Melrose 600 mob, n•gga, welcome to death row
#BigXthaPlug #6wa #6wathamixtape
