The Screwed Up Click - S.U.C. 4 Da 713

Song Rating: 8.89/10

Song lyrics:

[Hook - 2x]
Its the S.U.C., for the 7-1-3

Thinking, of a masterplan
Aint nothing but a mic, inside my hand
Plus a couple hundred grand, and some female fans
In a Sedan, fame when they touch my hand
Yeah Im the man, the flow is hotter than kayan
Not lying, boys can keep trying
Catch me in a black van, insides pecan
Rubberband man, wild as the Taliban
Im half bird half man, you know they ran
Before I began, fools wonder who that man
Ask your girl shes a fan, Im in high demand
And man to man, I got her doing a handstand
You holding hands, I hope I didnt ruin your plans
Im just saying, now you know the man
Its Dub-K, dont rub me the wrong way
Or Ill display a K, and blow you away
End discussion, turn up the ba** and percussion
No introduction, just label me a self destruction
Im busting and busting, yall n***as running and ducking
And huffing and puffing, and really aint talking bout nothing
Im stuffing and hustling, yall n***as broke and something
Yall disgusting, homeboy I came from nothing
Now yall know, the dude that spit this flow
Is the next motherf**er, in the South to blow fa sho

Its the S.U.C., for the 7-1-3
Its the S.U.C., coming up is Lil Ke

[Lil Keke]
Well, Im thinking of a masterplan
By the boat by the plane, Cadillac by land
Turning corners working wood, with the sweet in my hand
Kicking blow freestyle, in the back of the van
Brand new Lex truck, its the color of sand
24s popped up, inside is tan

Purple kush sweet tooth, shore line again
Might get a better deal, if you spending a grand
Not a coward Im a G, never took off or ran
Im the truth young n***a, not a flash of the past
Its Churches or Popeyes, so Im back to the Chan
Its Malibu or South Beach, when I go to the sand
I could be sitting broke, out here kicking a can
Instead Im two story, on some acres of land
But you b**hes out here, trying to ruin my plan
When the smoke clear up, a n***a still gon stand Young Don

Its the S.U.C., for the 7-1-3
Its the S.U.C., coming up is Mike D

[Mike D]
The way I twist my palm, and work my wand
The way I shoot my gab, and handle my runs
They think jail shake a G up, Ima bake a ki up
Holla at my vatos, drop out and re-up
Im S.U.C.d up, POLO Jabo and Red up
The streets gon love me, the way my n***as eat up
Its still a few cakes in the click, we gotta cross
I swear Ima get em, for crossing the young boss
Im tired of dreaming of my click, flying in them hemis
Reality need to be my n***a, swanging in Bentleys
Screwed Up Click, we started it gon finish it
Pull up in that new joint, rims doing that spinning sh**
Its Corleone, macking on my cell phone
Stay because sister, eses and bad yellow bones
S.U.C. homie, Boss Hogg D homie
We check the phonies, now I roll by lonely coming down with that

Its S.U.C., for the 7-1-3
Its the S.U.C

S.U.C. 7-1-3, Take Over baby
The album coming soon baby, Summer 2005
Get ready for it

Date of text publication: 17.01.2021 at 06:44