Camouflage Dons Lyrics

Camouflage Dons Lyrics

My barrel lean like thorazine
Like Reverend King, cream like
Cartel spark reel, yall in the mezzanine
Women at the shot ball, shot ball, guillotine
A hundred on the dot balls, black on the big machine
Blowing at your entourage, old squad, wolverines
Camouflage dons, spit hella steam, prophesize, picking out the lies
Gotta get the green
Backs in my nap sack, roll up a swisher, sweet, light a splif, lifes a b**ch
Freaking off with the team, off the sh*t Ive seen, probably should be dead now
f**k the zombies, smoke the bong, its weed to the head now
Its the semi-auto going through your audio
My name is pressure and leave you in the poorest mode
Known movements, its reality music, the gun law is: if you got one, you better use it
Listen, they pit convoes, see your way out before D jump over E
And if you want by the cheek so play silly, feel a 9 milly
Acting like you bout this life beef for really
Face fighting, wanna steal, yall niggas kill me
Deer gang, 215, its Gucci Philly, its Louis Loaf with the smoke that beats that
Camouflage dons, zombies, static select
We present shots, we blowing off limbs
No sublimes, dont get it twisted, we knock them
Its a new wave, NWA, trick it how you want it, and its all I got to say
The fame aint changed me, I still dont f**k with you, niggas
I still be on the streets, I still scream f**k religion
I aint scared of beef, get beacon, put on a skillet
You bigots are non-existent so f**k all my competition, hold up
Hoes haze, no competition, your mortal vision is sacrilegious
Painting vivid pictures, smoking with the same niggas
Its Montana flow, whiter than the white cops that shot the kid on my block
Im from a place where we rolling, we take it
Blow teeth, two foes, trap it in the basement
Two freaks, one me, its threesomes in the AM
Take a whiff, fold sh*t, four blunts in one bash
Bodies in the basement, homicide cases?
Prophesize about multiplying pot like we makers
Hater, you aint on like the Lakers
I know Im wrong but we dont go, got this slave sh*t
Smith & Weston, one bullet, your pick
Third lid, I be putting it in your b**ch
Robbing like life after death, had a fourth disk
Rhyme like all eyes on me times four sh*t
Park place, sheet pins, smoking at the ball games
Scot bucks up top only when the Knicks play
Sniffing with some fun, OG and a swish play
Before you cross the day, motherf**ker, look both ways
Motherf**ker, look both ways
Motherf**ker, look both ways
Camouflage dons, camouflage dons