29 Blocc by Lyndale Lyrics
[INTRO]
Yon Yon's world nigga
Tune in you ole sukka ass niggas
Nigga
It's 29 Blocc
And Ion associate with snitches
Ion know who got popped, who got shot
Or even know who got knocked
Pussy pull up where we at and see my dudes got Glocks
RIP to [?] and Treyvon
This lil black thing it's gon' sing like its Akon
Bitches give me neck and stay the night, call 'em FaceTime
We 30 deep with 21 40's and choppa 89's
[?] in the South and you know about it
Sicko in the psych, Ion give a fuck how we go about it
[?] was too crowded, and I paid before a grave
I got keys, P's, and bands and I ain't washed in 6 days
Just now hustlin', my hustle started in sixth grade
With 6 grades, I had 'bout 16 zips of K
And since my boy died, I'm tryna fuck up people's day
Tryna give hoes better sew ins, ugly niggas a new face
If he slippin' with a bitch, I better hope that he pray
Cause the devil made me shoot, but God knows his due date
*gunshots*
And Ion think that dude straight
In Missouri I got hand cannons, in Kansas I rock wit K's
But I pray for better days and Ion see that shit comin'
For Money Gang and Wood Block, boy I'ma keep this shit drummin'
Fill us up and then we numbin'
Big 11's when we dumpin'
Hoes pick us up and ask sum, boy and we ain't sayin nothin'
Who I am?
Lil Lyndale, yeah Lil Lyndale
Pulled up and popped 9 niggas and only had 'bout 10 shells
From drugs, records, and bitches, I make all that shit sell
Make the stoley squad down, just to show my shit smell
Now, Rock Revival jeans
I came from sellin' beans
On the corner wit a vest cause I ain't never trust a fiend
I take muscle relaxers
I sip red, purple, green
My outfit be lookin' dirty cause my whips be super clean
Rob a nigga on sight, I need money at any means
Have Zay wit the whip cause I can't be at crime scenes
If I'm seen, they blame me, nigga, or my team
And it's lil Lyndale, cross you out like Hareem
I kill a nigga on my side for sayin' Yon died
Or any funny haha's that get you cooked like Popeye's
Chillin' out, I be [?] and smoke gas for yo guys
So, free that lil nigga so I can go ahead and get mine
Catch me close range, it's 30 [?]
How many niggas got popped since Yon died in my line?
Spill my bowl of noodles before I'm up and testifyin'
Why lie?
Look him dead in the eyes and I ain't recognize him
I'm a trill nigga, that young real nigga
And if you wanna get these drills, I'm in the field nigga
What I got to live for? and how you feel nigga?
Sike, you ain't really tryna get killed nigga
Cause I got Crips that'll trip, and Bloods that show love
I got folks that flip bricks, and [?] my plugs
And I got a gangsta bitch that have bodies and smuggle drugs
She get wet off clap outs, the crazy bitch think it's so fun
She don't never pull over cause she know I'm on the run
Money lordin in the bag gun, nigga I'm a bad one
Tusk FN nigga, you ain't never had one
I done bought 3, n 2, nigga I done stashed 1
Big home hit yo plug, told youngin' to grab sum
Talkin' 'bout you shordy, yeah nigga don't act dumb
Lil bro, had the X-Men in his flat top
Had his homie stomach in his back shot
Ya ole sukka ass niggas
Get ya money up, bitchass nigga
Yon Yon's world nigga
Tune in you ole sukka ass niggas
Nigga
It's 29 Blocc
And Ion associate with snitches
Ion know who got popped, who got shot
Or even know who got knocked
Pussy pull up where we at and see my dudes got Glocks
RIP to [?] and Treyvon
This lil black thing it's gon' sing like its Akon
Bitches give me neck and stay the night, call 'em FaceTime
We 30 deep with 21 40's and choppa 89's
[?] in the South and you know about it
Sicko in the psych, Ion give a fuck how we go about it
[?] was too crowded, and I paid before a grave
I got keys, P's, and bands and I ain't washed in 6 days
Just now hustlin', my hustle started in sixth grade
With 6 grades, I had 'bout 16 zips of K
And since my boy died, I'm tryna fuck up people's day
Tryna give hoes better sew ins, ugly niggas a new face
If he slippin' with a bitch, I better hope that he pray
Cause the devil made me shoot, but God knows his due date
*gunshots*
And Ion think that dude straight
In Missouri I got hand cannons, in Kansas I rock wit K's
But I pray for better days and Ion see that shit comin'
For Money Gang and Wood Block, boy I'ma keep this shit drummin'
Fill us up and then we numbin'
Big 11's when we dumpin'
Hoes pick us up and ask sum, boy and we ain't sayin nothin'
Who I am?
Lil Lyndale, yeah Lil Lyndale
Pulled up and popped 9 niggas and only had 'bout 10 shells
From drugs, records, and bitches, I make all that shit sell
Make the stoley squad down, just to show my shit smell
Now, Rock Revival jeans
I came from sellin' beans
On the corner wit a vest cause I ain't never trust a fiend
I take muscle relaxers
I sip red, purple, green
My outfit be lookin' dirty cause my whips be super clean
Rob a nigga on sight, I need money at any means
Have Zay wit the whip cause I can't be at crime scenes
If I'm seen, they blame me, nigga, or my team
And it's lil Lyndale, cross you out like Hareem
I kill a nigga on my side for sayin' Yon died
Or any funny haha's that get you cooked like Popeye's
Chillin' out, I be [?] and smoke gas for yo guys
So, free that lil nigga so I can go ahead and get mine
Catch me close range, it's 30 [?]
How many niggas got popped since Yon died in my line?
Spill my bowl of noodles before I'm up and testifyin'
Why lie?
Look him dead in the eyes and I ain't recognize him
I'm a trill nigga, that young real nigga
And if you wanna get these drills, I'm in the field nigga
What I got to live for? and how you feel nigga?
Sike, you ain't really tryna get killed nigga
Cause I got Crips that'll trip, and Bloods that show love
I got folks that flip bricks, and [?] my plugs
And I got a gangsta bitch that have bodies and smuggle drugs
She get wet off clap outs, the crazy bitch think it's so fun
She don't never pull over cause she know I'm on the run
Money lordin in the bag gun, nigga I'm a bad one
Tusk FN nigga, you ain't never had one
I done bought 3, n 2, nigga I done stashed 1
Big home hit yo plug, told youngin' to grab sum
Talkin' 'bout you shordy, yeah nigga don't act dumb
Lil bro, had the X-Men in his flat top
Had his homie stomach in his back shot
Ya ole sukka ass niggas
Get ya money up, bitchass nigga