I’m Wit It Lyrics – Onsight Deeda
Singer: Onsight Deeda
Title: I’m Wit It
Yeah, shout to slim for this, n#gg#
What up, sin’?
Yeah, ight
My lil’ youngins break in cars just to look for glizzies (ha, grrt)
How i’m livin’, one wrong move and you could end up missin’ (and you could end up missin’, ha)
I’m clutchin’ bad, i sharpen knives when i hit penitentiary (yeah, oh-woah)
He tred the fence and he get shot (grrah), i make him feel that smitty (baow, bah)
I’m wit’ it, and he ain’t livin’ how he say he is (how he say he is)
Ridiculous, lil’ brudda ask, “what kind of k this is?” (what kind of k it is)
He throw a cross, i cut him off and i’ma face him still (and i’ma face him)
Yo’ dude a rat (yeah), he told up on yo’ dawg and you embraced him still (what? lil’ b#tch)
Everybody killers, no throwin’ weight ’round here (at all)
He try to big man some sh#t and meet your faith ’round hеre (grrt, baow, baow, baow)
You liftin’ iron, i’m slangin’ iron, we ain’t the samе ’round here (what? what? what?)
You let yo’ partners gas you up, you gon’ deflate ’round here (yeah, yeah)
Look, i got the drop on a opp’, i mess with ol’ girl, so l know where he be at (at all)
I don’t give a f#ck if we cousins (yeah, what?), you f#ck with them, n#gg#, you don’t get a g pass (not at all)
Plus i been runnin’ up them bands and i’m on yo’ #ss, i know that you see that (you see it)
It’s real in that field, come get you a kill, be done rearranged a n#gg# repast (grrah)
Still posted where the street at (what?), i’m in miami, where the heat at? (baow)
All that murder talk, we don’t speak that (nah), yeah, but you know for sure they dead (dead)
n#gg#s doin’ all that wolfin’, yeah, but i know for sure he scared (he scared)
I’m active like a green light (what? what?) but when i’m mad all see is red (red)
We’ll get down on him broad day if they keep doin’ that hidin’ (hidin’)
Casey pull on side him (baow, baow), watch how i buss up the driver (baow, baow)
Cash money, i’ma hot boy (huh, it’s cash, yeah), it’s startin’ to feel like i’m on fire (yeah, what?)
I start addin’ up my body count if them n#gg#s got a problem (grrt, grrah)
My lil’ youngins break in cars just to look for glizzies (ha, grrt)
How i’m livin’, one wrong move and you could end up missin’ (and you could end up missin’, ha)
I’m clutchin’ bad, i sharpen knives when i hit penitentiary (yeah, oh-woah)
He tred the fence and he get shot (grrah), i make him feel that smitty (baow, bah)
I’m wit’ it, and he ain’t livin’ how he say he is (how he say he is)
Ridiculous, lil’ brudda ask, “what kind of k this is?” (what kind of k it is)
He throw a cross, i cut him off and i’ma face him still (and i’ma face him)
Yo’ dude a rat (yeah), he told up on yo’ dawg and you embraced him still (what? lil’ b#tch)
’bout to buss down my opposition, they know they time comin’ (yeah)
Watch i hop out, chase you down, lil’ b#tch, i know you tried runnin’ (ha, grrt)
Tryna find the floor on my jacket, n#gg#, you won’t find nothin’ (you won’t find nothin’)
Put that nine on the five (ha, ha), got them 45’s bussin’ (wow)
I said them n#gg#s know the procedure (what?) when i’m comin’ through with them trench coats (them what?)
Them n#gg#s know the procedure, tryna kill all of your kinfolk (yeah, come here)
This murder sh#t be easy (hey), say lil’ brudda, this sh#t simple (it’s simple)
Just pull up in his yard (huh, what?), put that rod to his temple (put it to his temple)
Now have you ever seen a gremlin goin’ dumb? (dumb)
All in yo’ yard (yeah, yeah), tryna zip you and yo’ son (grrah)
You ever make me mad and i go spinnin’ for a month (for a month, yeah)
They been talkin’ ’bout lil’ mummy (yeah), we put puk up in a blunt (we put puk up in a blunt)
See, my lil’ youngin’, he went steppin’ wit’ a 19 (wit’ a 19)
They gave him twenty-five to life and he just nineteen (and he just nineteen)
These n#gg#s flaggin’ (huh? what?), they be out here sellin’ pipe dreams
Lil’ rich n#gg#, i touch a quarter million wearin’ white tees (yeah, what?)
My lil’ youngins break in cars just to look for glizzies (ha, grrt)
How i’m livin’, one wrong move and you could end up missin’ (and you could end up missin’)
I’m clutchin’ bad, i sharpen knives when i hit penitentiary (yeah, oh-woah)
He tred the fence and he get shot (grrah), i make him feel that smitty (baow, bah)
I’m wit’ it, and he ain’t livin’ how he say he is (how he say he is)
Ridiculous, lil’ brudda ask, “what kind of k this is?” (what kind of k it is)
He throw a cross, i cut him off and i’ma face him still (and i’ma face him)
Yo’ dude a rat (yeah), he told up on yo’ dawg and you embraced him still (what? lil’ b#tch)
I want smoke with the whole f#ckin’ neighborhood (yeah)
And i don’t mind breakin’ bread if the table good (not at all)
Shit, yeah, i clutch cutters like a razor (b#tch)
f#ck duke ’cause he ain’t wanna go write that affidavit (huh, huh, what?)
Tryna jack, you crazy (what?), rock you like a baby (baby)
You know jamal had wrote a statement (sure), should’ve f#cked your whole world up (yeah, rack, rack)
Tell ’em free big baby (grrah), watch i walk him down and i chase ’em (grrah, grrah-grrah-grrah)
I got so much killers, i could really go and sub one (uh, go and sub one)
Hold on, i got fifty in this automatic (grrrt, grrah)
They say lil’ deeda slangin’ iron, but you know that carbon plastic (that carbon plastic)
Let me catch you out in traffic (huh), signed a deal, still gettin’ active (yeah, yeah)
I just bought ol’ dude a casket, i ain’t with that chitter chatter (yeah)
I say lights off, mask on, creep silent (yeah)
They came ’round buckin’, now they leavin’ out cryin’ (yeah)
I say lights off, mask on, creep silent (b#tch)
Them b#tches got me started, now them n#gg#s can’t stop dyin’ (grrah)
My lil’ youngins break in cars just to look for glizzies (ha, grrt)
How i’m livin’, one wrong move and you could end up missin’ (and you could end up missin’)
I’m clutchin’ bad, i sharpen knives when i hit penitentiary (yeah, oh-woah)
He tred the fence and he get shot (grrah), i make him feel that smitty (baow, bah)
I’m wit’ it, and he ain’t livin’ how he say he is (how he say he is)
Ridiculous, lil’ brudda ask, “what kind of k this is?” (what kind of k it is)
He throw a cross, i cut him off and i’ma face him still (and i’ma face him)
Yo’ dude a rat (yeah), he told up on yo’ dawg and you embraced him still (what? lil’ b#tch)
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Lyrics Onsight Deeda – I’m Wit It
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