MontannaATM - Pushin Up

★ intro ★
Yeah, yeah, yeah
You know what the fuck goin' on
(damn, ❲?❳, this shit ❲?❳)
Gang (brr)

★ verse ★
Catch a bitch-ass nigga in his hood, we put 'em down (we put 'em down)
It's whatever it gotta be with whoever, get lost and found (on gang)
We'll slide through your set, foenem aim at your hat, fuck if you on that
This ar got a hundred, the glock 23 got a fifty, fuck is a promag?
Niggas don't really be on that
You know we can't talk about shootings, them niggas don't blow back (they don't)
Here go some more facts
Them niggas can't post up right there as long as we know where that store at (they comin')
Anything lookin' suspicious, then that's what we throw at
He tender for bitches, we bound to catch him where his ho at
It ain't no secret 'bout that last nigga, they stood over him like a door mat (gang)
Get countin' these hundreds, that's your ass, nigga
Don't play in this shit, it'll go bad
This trackhawk hit your block so fast, nigga, i don't think you really want that
Ain't no block special, whenever it's pressure, my niggas get on that (we on 'em)
And if shit get extra, switch on the back of the glock, we jump out a tesla (brr)
He got sent up quick tryna play with gang and, shit, we gave 'em some fame and shit (we gave 'em some fame and shit)
He aim at his brains and shit
We jumped out a srt and he died and we had to change the whip (he gone, he gone)
My takers, they be from the 3, but i really bang the 6 (6 block)
My niggas be changin' shit
We jump out and get 'em, we don't give a fuck who you hangin' with
Percs and lean (percs and lean), i had to kick the percs and lean (percs and lean)
Bitch, i lied, finna pop a thirty and pour me up a three (thirty, thirty)
You know it's purple, wockhardt be my special, i can't play with green (bitch)
This bitch tweakin', she think i'm in love, but it ain't what it seems (but it ain't what it seems)
Tell the ho the kid is not my son, michael jackson, billie jean (michael jackson, billie jean)
She think i could be the one, but that shit right there is silly thing (that shit right there is silly thing)
Bitch, i never had to pay a shooter, off the love they kill for me (they kill)
I ain't with that talkin', spill some blood, that's how i know it's real for me (that's how i know it's real)
Deep down in the trenches, where this shit get hectic, lately niggas been checkin' (they get hit)
Even more, we be the reason niggas be leavin', i'm tryna make a lil' exit
I'm tryna chase me some millions
Hope my mama can stop with all that stressin' (mama, stop)
She know i stand on business, forever shoot my glizzy, ain't gon' be no wrestlin'