Letra Alley Oop - Mbnel, fenix flexin

Alley Oop

I’ma shooter he a poodle
This F and N gon' bust a nigga’s noodles
I just took this nigga bitch go get your bitch back
I be breaking hoe bitches like they Kit-Kats
I be poppin' percocets just like they Tic-Tacs
I rock designer head to toe, I like to mismatch
I’ma shoot your buff homie in the six pack
One up top for the opps you know with that
It’s me and Nel, we giving hell
We talk to killers, you talk to 12
I would’ve dropped that bag but ain’t no bail
So free my niggas out that mufuckin' cell
I’m a Sacramento slime with a mac
She ain’t bring me what I want she getting slapped
You checkin' traps, she selling pussy
Can’t really cut like that, you nigga rookies
She want the jewels, I wanted blue
Pop a 30, get in my mood, ayy
Bad bitch, told her, «trap for a real nigga»
She gon' go and bring it back for a real nigga
Ayy, all that gang shit, yeah, we with that
We leave a nigga missing with his bitch ass
Ayy, I need commas, I need hundons
Try to play around with me, you got the wrong one
AKs, we got chops, we got big sticks
'Bout to check another nigga off the hitlist
Boom, .40 finna clear the whole room
Doomed, nigga play with me, he need a tomb
Sweep a nigga block, we ain’t need to use the broom
I sell that black shit that you can smoke up off a spoon
If the bitch ain’t suckin' dick then we kickin' her out the room
Masked up, boy, we break in niggas shit like a raccoon
You ain’t never shot nobody, see you flinchin' when you shoot
I got the juice, I’m that nigga in my city bitches choose
I just got me a lil' nickle, we got the stick in it
Them boys stay posting all them guns but they ain’t hit with it
Brodie just got a Glock, It got the switch in it
All you cute flexin' them guns, y’all just take pics with it
Ayy, you not my dawg, yous a poodle nigga
How many killers you know? everybody shooters nigga
Ain’t got to flex, these niggas know what we do to niggas
Still ain’t popped a pill before we drill before I shoot a nigga
All these guns you would’ve thought we had bazookas nigga
Choppa automatic, it get to spittin' like some mucus nigga
I’m in the field, pass me the ball and I’m jukin' niggas
They take you to the net
Like suckas don’t know police do to niggas
I spent a thousand for these ripped jeans
All them shots them niggas sent but they ain’t hit me
And brodie smoked what’s his name, he in six feet
We seen him at the market and then we chase him down 6th street