Kidd Kidd - Middle Finger lyrics

rate me

They try to separate my bullet from my gun

Ohhh!

Ohh!

Kidd Kidd

Hook:

36 O's in the block

32 extensions in the glock

Niggas rattin like a mother*cker

Make a real nigga call you by your badge number

Middle finger to the cops, bitch I think Im Pac

All eyez on me, bitch I think Im Pac

I live that thug life, bitch I think I’m Pac

I say r life don’t think I’m not

Put a lid on it, Kidd Kidd on it,

Get everybody Benz with the kid on it,

Keep the bottles with the sparkles need on it

She .. I’ll turn into a bent on it

Bitch bend it over, I’ma do this ran on it

Make that ass so hard, that’s what been on it

That’s me up in that V with no D on it

She’s on em, that gluck, sitting on em

Christ on your head man you know we been on it

Nigga out your bullet, what your name written on it

Haters wanna see me fall, but I ain’t trippin on it

I .. your girl whole play grivin’ on it, uh

Hook:

36 hoes in the block

32 ass snitches in the glock

Niggas ridin’ like a mother*cker

Make em real nigga call you by your Benz number

Middle finger to the cops, bitch I think I popped

All eyes on me, bitch I think I’m popped

Holla at the thug life, bitch I think I’m popped

I say mother life don’t think I’m not

My money call up with my fame

Hoes started talking and ball up my name

Now I hate baby boy the niggas stuntin’

Slingin wood like I’m ask all Jim thuggin’

They try to separate my bullets from my gun

I’ll start again

Hook:

36 hoes in the block

32 ass snitches in the glock

Niggas ridin’ like a mother*cker

Make em real nigga call you by your Benz number

Middle finger to the cops, bitch I think I popped

All eyes on me, bitch I think I’m popped

Holla at the thug life, bitch I think I’m popped

I say mother life don’t think I’m not

Glock pot drop your top like a call show

Slammin hoes like a Cadillac call door

On the thuggin judgement, ‘cause only Lord knows

I got a lot of niggas of me at the cross road,

I miss my homie rack, I miss my homie tight

We going shots, bag in-shots, take your license

Shoes got spice, but I don’t do no hiking

The hoes love it, the hatrs don’t like it

Hook:

36 hoes in the block

32 ass snitches in the glock

Niggas ridin’ like a mother*cker

Make em real nigga call you by your Benz number

Middle finger to the cops, bitch I think I popped

All eyes on me, bitch I think I’m popped

Holla at the thug life, bitch I think I’m popped

I say mother life don’t think I’m not