Shoreline Mafia ft. – Mind Right | Lyrics

Lyrics “Mind Right” – Shoreline Mafia feat.

Ron-Ron do that s**t..
I just popped a Perc, get my mind right
B**ch, I want some money, not no lime light
Me and all my n**gas, we beyond tight
We ain’t goin’ back and forth, b**ch, it’s on sight

Ayy, told that b**ch Take yo’ clothes off
Big .40 knock his nose off
She wanna Gucci purse but I want some head
My n**gas in the county, boy, they eatin’ bread
If a n**ga try to play me, we gon’ leave him dead
I got tired of poppin’ Molly so I’m poppin’ meds
Ooh, this a Oxy’, all these n**gas sweet like some toffee
Double cup, n**ga, I ain’t sippin’ coffee
Play with us, he get chipped like some Taki’s
You don’t f**k how I f**k so she creepin’ on you
I told my n**ga .. Boy, they sleepin’ on you

Glock-19 but it hold fifty
I gotta keep a stick ’cause it get sticky
Like a math quiz, it gon’ get tricky
I’m doin’ drugs with a b**ch like I’m Bobby Whitney
Fenix Flexin count them bank rolls
Boy, you n**gas f**kin’ stank h*es
I been f**kin’ on yo’ main ho
Keep it real, that’s the only reason you hate ..
My Glock gay, it give him facials
I got a white b**ch named Rachel
When she f**kin’ on me it’s interracial
I’m ’bout my paper like a n**ga went to Staples

You don’t need a n**ga Raise your hands up
You with your best friend, then you finna dance up
They playin’ City Girls, so you finna act up
Drop it down to the floor, I throw them bands up
Ass fat, you gon’ make it clap, huh
In a function, n**ga, got your strap, huh
We don’t talk on the phone, ’cause it’s tapped, bruh
Heard she don’t get no head but that’s cap, bruh
Ayy, she be givin’ n**gas hella head
You done f**ked up the re-up on me, hella bread
Adam sent me a 4 with that medicine
I remember way back they wouldn’t let us in
Now they tryna drop a bag just to get us in

I ain’t the best, n**ga, tell me who is better then
I rock Truey Jeans, .. and the Vetements
They done f**ked up, .. bring Berettas in
Walked in with pistolas
I pin a n**ga red like Crayola
I been sippin’ on that red, thought I told ya’
Brand new BAPE kicks like I’m Soulja
Ayy, yeah, like I’m Soulja Boy
Still the same young n**ga, I’m just older, boy
Ayy, yeah, like I’m Soulja Boy
Still the same young n**ga, I’m just older, boy
Ayy, Ice on me, b**ch, I’m froze up
I’m .. in my city, so she chose up
It cost like five n**ga, pour a four up
And I just poured two, so I’m slowed up
I can’t pop me no Percs, I’ma throw up
It’s goin’ down, baby girl, we finna go up
She put her lips on my d**k ’cause I blowed up
And I got ten bands when I showed up

I got mighty codeine and some dope
And the n**ga better watch for yo’ ho
Two for ten, we can get it at the store
And my dawg outta line on the lows
22 up in the city for the bowls, yeah, yeah
Countin’ money so we keep the trap closed, yeah, yeah
Ain’t no comin’ on the block, you payed a toll, uh-huh
And that b**ch on the X, make her roll, uh-huh
In the Hellcat with the fog lights
Got these VV’s on me, givin’ frostbite
Brought your b**ch through, she givin’ head all night
Ridin’ real foreign’s, got the name on the exhaust pipe
We got choppas in the truck, like the SWAT team
Slime down the runway, we will leave ya’ block clean
Ridin’ with two 30’s in the .., we the Glock team
.. we got a 40 in the back and it’s not clean
Tell a n**ga Cash out, I’ma leave him ass out
p**sy n**ga spoke, he ain’t ever seen the crack house
.. vibes and we even got the back house
We apply the pressure to a n**ga, he get packed out
Hit a n**ga spot, ‘lil n**ga, where the safe at
Leave a n**ga dead, now we see him where the tapes at, stretch fast
When I beat a b**ch, I be lookin’ for a latex
Growin’ out the trap, so you know you made the case stretch

Ron-Ron do that s**t…

➤ Written by, Ohgeesy & Fenix Flexin
Album: Party Pack 2
Produced by AceTheFace & Ron-Ron The Producer
Shoreline Mafia | | 2019

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