Cracked (I’m Him 2) - Iayze

Ayy, real Murda Worth shit, I'm talkin' 'bout, we leave his car on flats, he crashed, it's on flats (get on his ass), go, go

That's on fast, we be in a car, on flats (Bitch, bitch) ayy, bitch, aye, go, real Murda Worth shit, I'm talkin' 'bout

My racks came in fast

You say I'm a opp, better get on my ass

You ain't gon' shoot, that's facts

If we see that whip, we gon' leave him on flats

Glock on my hip, hit 'em up like tats

If he want a verse, then he gotta get taxed

I don't hear shit, I can only hear the racks

50 round drum, gave that lil' nigga heart attack

He from the 'burbs, that lil' nigga ain't on that

Lil Dee catch him, and smoke his lil' dumbass

Jay got a switch, he won't play with yo' dumbass

My shooter berserk, tryna lurk, who done hit my phone?, I feel like lurch

I am the one who's gonna shoot, I did that work

Pull up, and hop out the coupe, and shot him first

They six deep, shot the biggest one last

I'm finna ball out, bitch, like Steve Nash

Kicked out of school 'cause I smelled like weed in class

7.62 hit his car and it made him crash

Yo' bitch on dick and it got her cracked

I only be in the stu' droppin' hits

They treat this shit like Crack

Play in this bitch, then yo' lil' dumbass gettin' hit

Cut his head off, throw that shit in the trash

My racks came in fast

You say I'm a opp, better get on my ass

You ain't gon' shoot, that's facts

If we see that whip, we gon' leave him on flats

Glock on my hip, hit 'em up like tats

If he want a verse, then he gotta get taxed

I don't hear shit, I can only hear the racks

50 round drum, gave that lil' nigga heart attack

Ain't on that (Bitch)

Smoke his lil' dumbass

Won't play with yo' dumbass

Hit my phone, I feel like lurch, bitch

That work bitch