š„ [Intro]
(Ayy, 63 shit, 67th)
(Donāt speak on the dead, bitch)
Yāall keep dissin' Von like he wonāt get you hit
(Pussy!)
Keep that same energy, lil' Rackski
Grrah! Boom! Baow!
š£ [Chorus]
I ain't stressin', bitch, I stay with that strap (Bitch!)
Catch a opp lackin', I'm blowin' his cap
Talkin' on Von, now you done for that rap (Grrah!)
You gon' die in the whip or get hit in a trap
I was posted with killers, Iām really outside
You was begginā for likes while yoā homie just died
You dissin' the name, now your face on a slide
I donāt do threats, I just shoot when I ride (Boom! Boom!)
You was never no demon, just fakin' the image
Now Iām comin' for blood, and I handle my business
Tryna click with FBG for some fame
We gon' slide to the 3rd and leave shit in flames
(Grrah! Grrah! Bitch you dead!)
š« [Verse 1]
How the fuck you from Memphis and dissin' the block?
I was there when yoā cousin got hit with the mop
You switched for a verse and a FBG chain
Now Iām itchinā to pop out and snatch off his brain
Lil bro tried to duck, but that switch too quick
He tripped on the curb, now he twitchin' and shit (Boom!)
I donāt care what you claim, if you mention my kin
Iāma leave you and all of your homies in pits
Rackski a hoe, thatās word to the gang
You made a diss now we lurkinā with flames
You want smoke? Then fuck it, Iām bringinā the pain
Told Durk I got it, Iām cleaninā the stain
King Von was a stepper, you playinā with death
Iāll turn 63rd to a scene outta Left 4 Dead
Keep postinā them songs, keep playinā them games
Your face gon' get tatted in blood on the chain (On gang!)
š [Chorus]
I ain't stressin', bitch, I stay with that strap
Catch a opp lackin', I'm blowin' his cap
Talkin' on Von, now you done for that rap
You gon' die in the whip or get hit in a trap
I was posted with killers, Iām really outside
You was begginā for likes while yoā homie just died
You dissin' the name, now your face on a slide
I donāt do threats, I just shoot when I ride
(Yeah, donāt run now!)
š„ [Verse 2]
You was rappinā with rage, I was loadinā the mag
We slide in them trucks, ain't no poppin' no tags
He said Von name? Now he zipped in a bag
Left his face in the dirt, now his mama all sad
You talk on the net, but not in the streets
I caught him in traffic, his ass couldnāt speak
Dropped 5 on his head, now he out for the week
You scream "Free who?" Now you restinā in peace
Say my name in a song, thatās a contract
One call, you erased ā no comeback
FBG gassed you up? Now they all flat
Put them boys on a shirt where the O at
I donāt speak on the dead, I just double the rounds
Told lilā bro āslide,ā now we huntinā like hounds
If itās up, then itās stuck, we aināt squashin' no sounds
I just lit up his block, now itās vacant as hell
(Yeah, fuck Rackski!)
š£ [Chorus - Final]
I ain't stressin', bitch, I stay with that strap
Catch a opp lackin', I'm blowin' his cap
Talkin' on Von, now you done for that rap
You gon' die in the whip or get hit in a trap
I was posted with killers, Iām really outside
You was begginā for likes while yoā homie just died
You dissin' the name, now your face on a slide
I donāt do threats, I just shoot when I ride
(Baow! 63MuneySavage, hoeāI'm standin' on it!)