Kevin Gates – Who Want Smoke (Freestyle) lyrics

What the fu*k is that? (Bow) What the fu*k is that? Mm Yeah that’s how I step on sh*t b*tch ass ni**as be talking that gangsta sh*t like yeah I know what’s happening with me dick ya heard me Hm, you know what’s happening with me you know I’m out here ya heard me Ayy, I’m out here you heard me Get on the internet and do all that ayy, we do all that, ayy, ayy Ayy, You can do all that sh*t you be doing on the internet dick Ayy, but dick on that black top and you know what’s happening with me dick ya heard me Bow bow What the fu*k is that? I step on one of you ni**as then I spit on you when I finish Kevin Gates – Who Want Smoke (Freestyle) lyrics lyrics.az What the fu*k is that? (Bow-bow-bow-bow-bow) I step on one of you ni**as then I’ll spit on you when I finish [Verse 2] Lotta work, get distributed to my generals and lieutenants Go berserk, I’ll put you on a shirt from JCPenney b*tch I’m turnt, put your dick inside the dirt and murk the witness I go lurk, catch a body and tell Mazi how I did it All my hitters working lense I go purchase me a Fendi Drop that bag, want your hat you know it’s curtains when I set it Dun-Dadda, kick the Rash-Clahh this ain’t gunfire You know I don’t get tired, run you down your lungs tired Fireman, catch you coming home like the umpire Hmm, hitting her from the back I got my strap on top aback, lil’ b*tch Thinking about setting me up in front of the ideas then I’ma clap the b*tch Thinking about stealing my watch and running off then I’ma whack the b*tch That’s how I bat that b*tch Used to be chief execution a big enforcer Drug lords in my lineage many that been deported Red ford, twenty-two inch on fourtys, I been retarded Love my neighbors if I do some gangsta they don’t report it If a ni**a raise his phone in my presence think he recording Cartier go walk around and make sure the b*tch ain’t recording Take his phone go in his recent deleted and then destroy it Hmm, then invite him to a show and then make him feel real important Put them gremlins on they trail when they bell and they get a company Don’t entertain no fu*kery, told the b*tch not to fu*k with me I’m gonna drop nuts how I’m thuggin’, this sh*t a luxury I show no remorse, saddle up ain’t got no horse Hmm, Turn you to a coff-, in the slum this sh*t a sport All these tigers in the jungle we let nature take its course I’m new Brasi, got some bodies he responding you of course Many MAC-11 when it’s static, I hold down the fort Brand new 911 Turbo S I’m jumping out a Porsche It do this sh*t, ain’t nothing new to me, I been jumped off the porch No suppressor on the whip and when it spit look like a torch We done barbecued a ni**a, we done finished, get the fork One of them men I maybe P.S.M, my eighteen throw up four Talking tough on Instagram in person they don’t want no part Clean the port and be a surely mini cartridge look like doors Grip the 40 better take extra precaution when it spark [Outro] Take precaution when that b*tch spark, ya heard? (Bow, what?) What the fu*k is that? Kevin Gates Who Want Smoke (Freestyle) lyrics Kevin Gates – Who Want Smoke (Freestyle) lyrics [Verse 1] Chicago Bulls, basketball shorts, I’m tryna scrimmage (What up?) I go ape, post up in the paint, chi’ be high percentage (Rrahh, ruff) Ayy, let’s get it, step on one of you ni**as, spit on you when I finish Tryna act like they want smoke with Gates, they really be up in they feelings (For real) This lil’ bitty, pussy pressure, she won’t sit on some of these inches (Come on) Told me, get this pussy pregnant, bae, I really want some of your children (Aight, aight) I know how to take the final thing and send it on one of these fenders (Woo-woo) I’ma really cop a hollow, aim it, send it at one of they temples (Woo-woo) I’m just Fendi, I ain’t came across a fix I go to inching (I do) I be twitching, and my eye be kinda fu*ked up I be squinting (Ah, ah) I be glitching, then my mind be kinda fu*ked up, come from killing (Ah) You be spitting, you ain’t never did a walk-up, you pretending I would really stand up in your sh*t and wrap your sh*t for Christmas (Right) Closed case, he ain’t got no face the lawyer’s gon’ dismiss it (Uh-huh) Grab the pole, I’m tryna snatch his soul and turn him to a memory With the hold up, I’m bipolar and you know I’m bout my business (I’m real) Don’t rap about you trappin’ in traffic, they pull they panties down (Bow-bow) Band-aid on my fingertips, swinger switch, put that hammer down (Grrah) They personal aburses score thirty-two out that wrap-around (Bow-bow) Shottas slangin’ coppa, that yoppa go, bap-bap-bap-bap-bow (Bow) [Refrain] What the fu*k is that?