Kill Shit by G Herbo Lyrics
[Intro: Lil Herb & Lil Bibby]
This is a L beat, aw man
Time to let these niggas know what it is in the streets
Ayy Bibby, let's kill shit broski
Whatchu wanna do?
It's whatever man, just go on ahead and rip that shit
I'ma come around and clean that shit up
Let's get it
[Verse 1: Lil Herb]
Know a couple niggas that's down to ride for a homicide
When it's drama time
Run up on a nigga with the llamas flyin
Leave his loved ones all traumatized
150, I'm really wit' it
I'll drop his ass and then forget it
I'm the man round my side of town
Might see a bitch and forget I hit it
Lil Bibby on the track with me
One mistake and he clap fifty
When I hit the scene hoes go insane
'Cause they know a nigga got them racks wit' me
No velcro but the strap wit' me
Let a nigga wanna act silly
I'ma let it off and then leave him there
Ride off and don't even care
Bitch, I cash out 'til I pass out
Got a couple Trues I don't even wear
In the game, bitch, I do my thang
Hoes scream my name, I ain't even there
Lil Herb, boy, I do's this
Leave your bitch wetter than a pool pit
And I make bands like I make friends
Bought some Ray-Bans on some cool shit
But now it's back to some killa shit
Got some wild hoes that'll drill a bitch
Yea it's No Limit, thirty years runnin'
Thirty years gunnin' and we still the shit
I never run 'cause I stay to fight
I'll cook a nigga like steak and rice
And it's hella real in the battlefield
Gangbang gotta pay the price
Hit a nigga with the forty fifth
Bet it make his ass do forty flips
M-O-B I don't love a ho
I'ma be this way 'til I'm forty six
Matter of fact 'til a nigga die
Smoke kush blunts 'til a nigga cry
And I never feed off another man
'Cause I understand how a nigga lie
Never snitch on a nigga dry
Yeah, that's how a nigga die
Got a yellow bitch in the passenger
She gon' suck and fuck if I get her high
If I do the dash then my whip will fly
Foreign shit what a nigga ride
I ain't never snoozin', let a nigga try
Got the nine Ruger on a nigga side
[Verse 2: Lil Bibby]
Lil Bibby, No Limit
Yeah, I'm all about that sack bitch
My young niggas they clap shit
Let the MAC spit, we whack shit
Weezy in that cut
With that Nina, that's that black bitch
Rico wanna' get 'em I'm like, «cuz man, I got this»
Shootin' shit, hittin' shit, four-five extended clip
Y'all be on that snitchin' shit and y'all know what snitches get
No Limit shit, we wit' the shits, I'm focused on gettin' rich
M-O-B forget a bitch, right after I hit the bitch
Like point me to the kitchen, bitch, I be water whippin' shit
Whip it, Jeff Gordon whip it, hit it wit' the fork
Straight drop, no shorts, shooters on and off the court
Shoot a nigga off his porch, turn a nigga to a corpse
Yeah, I'm 'bout that, rollin' up that loud pack
Catch me lackin'? I doubt that
'Cause I never leave without that
And that's real shit, got real hitters, they kill shit
You fuck around, hit the kill switch
These hollow tips you feel this
And I'm tryna get real rich
'Cause my mama said I wouldn't be shit
Nobody never gave me shit
Like «Bibby hop on this remix»
That's five hundred, no free shit
'Cause I'm hot and I do this shit for my block
I got thirty off in that Glock, have my Nina give you top
Bodies gon' drop and we ain't gon' stop, R.I.P Roc
Catch a few ops, send a few shots
Might hit a few blocks, fuck a few thots
I need two mill might seem like a lot
But I spit straight drop so its really not
My team gon' eat, R.I.P. the police
Fake niggas don't speak, cop killers in the heat
Catch me in the streets, shout out to broski
This is a L beat, aw man
Time to let these niggas know what it is in the streets
Ayy Bibby, let's kill shit broski
Whatchu wanna do?
It's whatever man, just go on ahead and rip that shit
I'ma come around and clean that shit up
Let's get it
[Verse 1: Lil Herb]
Know a couple niggas that's down to ride for a homicide
When it's drama time
Run up on a nigga with the llamas flyin
Leave his loved ones all traumatized
150, I'm really wit' it
I'll drop his ass and then forget it
I'm the man round my side of town
Might see a bitch and forget I hit it
Lil Bibby on the track with me
One mistake and he clap fifty
When I hit the scene hoes go insane
'Cause they know a nigga got them racks wit' me
No velcro but the strap wit' me
Let a nigga wanna act silly
I'ma let it off and then leave him there
Ride off and don't even care
Bitch, I cash out 'til I pass out
Got a couple Trues I don't even wear
In the game, bitch, I do my thang
Hoes scream my name, I ain't even there
Lil Herb, boy, I do's this
Leave your bitch wetter than a pool pit
And I make bands like I make friends
Bought some Ray-Bans on some cool shit
But now it's back to some killa shit
Got some wild hoes that'll drill a bitch
Yea it's No Limit, thirty years runnin'
Thirty years gunnin' and we still the shit
I never run 'cause I stay to fight
I'll cook a nigga like steak and rice
And it's hella real in the battlefield
Gangbang gotta pay the price
Hit a nigga with the forty fifth
Bet it make his ass do forty flips
M-O-B I don't love a ho
I'ma be this way 'til I'm forty six
Matter of fact 'til a nigga die
Smoke kush blunts 'til a nigga cry
And I never feed off another man
'Cause I understand how a nigga lie
Never snitch on a nigga dry
Yeah, that's how a nigga die
Got a yellow bitch in the passenger
She gon' suck and fuck if I get her high
If I do the dash then my whip will fly
Foreign shit what a nigga ride
I ain't never snoozin', let a nigga try
Got the nine Ruger on a nigga side
[Verse 2: Lil Bibby]
Lil Bibby, No Limit
Yeah, I'm all about that sack bitch
My young niggas they clap shit
Let the MAC spit, we whack shit
Weezy in that cut
With that Nina, that's that black bitch
Rico wanna' get 'em I'm like, «cuz man, I got this»
Shootin' shit, hittin' shit, four-five extended clip
Y'all be on that snitchin' shit and y'all know what snitches get
No Limit shit, we wit' the shits, I'm focused on gettin' rich
M-O-B forget a bitch, right after I hit the bitch
Like point me to the kitchen, bitch, I be water whippin' shit
Whip it, Jeff Gordon whip it, hit it wit' the fork
Straight drop, no shorts, shooters on and off the court
Shoot a nigga off his porch, turn a nigga to a corpse
Yeah, I'm 'bout that, rollin' up that loud pack
Catch me lackin'? I doubt that
'Cause I never leave without that
And that's real shit, got real hitters, they kill shit
You fuck around, hit the kill switch
These hollow tips you feel this
And I'm tryna get real rich
'Cause my mama said I wouldn't be shit
Nobody never gave me shit
Like «Bibby hop on this remix»
That's five hundred, no free shit
'Cause I'm hot and I do this shit for my block
I got thirty off in that Glock, have my Nina give you top
Bodies gon' drop and we ain't gon' stop, R.I.P Roc
Catch a few ops, send a few shots
Might hit a few blocks, fuck a few thots
I need two mill might seem like a lot
But I spit straight drop so its really not
My team gon' eat, R.I.P. the police
Fake niggas don't speak, cop killers in the heat
Catch me in the streets, shout out to broski