Tec Songtext
von Chief Keef
Tec Songtext
Boy hold my jury it′s a pound
Brick on my wrist right now
And I'm finna go and scoop ya bitch
And I′m finna go and scoop some kicks
Finna pull up on my ex
Pull up on my ex make that bitch mad
I ain't got no fucking type of respect
But I heard you get respect with TEC
Boy hold my jury it's a pound
Brick on my wrist right now
And I′m finna go and scoop ya bitch
And I′m finna go and scoop some kicks
Finna pull up on my ex
Pull up on my ex make that bitch mad
I ain't got no fucking type of respect
But I heard you get respect with TEC
D-Moe go grab the pound
Thots coming over suck us right now
Roll up let′s get high (Let's get high bitch)
Smoke a nigga frown (Nigga frown)
Let ′em come up in this fucking house (In this house)
Pistol to his motherfucking mouth (To his fuckin' mouth)
I told him "Watch his motherfucking mouth"
(Told him "Watch his mouth, gang")
Who the fuck talking now? (Talkin′ now)
Flex and look at my muscle
(Look at my motherfuckin' muscle)
My truck got a muscle
(Truck got a motherfuckin' muscle)
It ain′t American, it′s foreign (Bitch is foreign)
My bitch ain't American, she foreign (Bitch is foreign)
She is from Dubai (Dubai)
I got that check, then I flew by I roll by
Didn′t stop for nobody (Nobody)
I don't fuck with nobody (Fuck with nobody)
I′ll hop out and fuck your body and your party
We gon' come through, shoot your party
Who told you to party? Not GloGang
Fuck boy you is a no name (You′s a no name)
Boy hold my jury it's a pound
Brick on my wrist right now
And I'm finna go and scoop ya bitch
And I′m finna go and scoop some kicks
Finna pull up on my ex
Pull up on my ex make that bitch mad
I ain′t got no fucking type of respect
But I heard you get respect with TEC
I just bought a chopper let's do a hit
You wife for us, she doing dicks
I got a .30 with a stick
I′m Glo Gang, we hella rich
These niggas hate but niggas bitches
These niggas tellin, niggas snitches
And you know snitches they get stitches
Pulling up and you get digits
Talking numbers, hunnid rounds
Catch you lacking it's man down
When I kill you, Ima frown
Ain′t no fucking laughing or playing around
Brick on my wrist right now
And I'm finna go and scoop ya bitch
And I′m finna go and scoop some kicks
Finna pull up on my ex
Pull up on my ex make that bitch mad
I ain't got no fucking type of respect
But I heard you get respect with TEC
Boy hold my jury it's a pound
Brick on my wrist right now
And I′m finna go and scoop ya bitch
And I′m finna go and scoop some kicks
Finna pull up on my ex
Pull up on my ex make that bitch mad
I ain't got no fucking type of respect
But I heard you get respect with TEC
D-Moe go grab the pound
Thots coming over suck us right now
Roll up let′s get high (Let's get high bitch)
Smoke a nigga frown (Nigga frown)
Let ′em come up in this fucking house (In this house)
Pistol to his motherfucking mouth (To his fuckin' mouth)
I told him "Watch his motherfucking mouth"
(Told him "Watch his mouth, gang")
Who the fuck talking now? (Talkin′ now)
Flex and look at my muscle
(Look at my motherfuckin' muscle)
My truck got a muscle
(Truck got a motherfuckin' muscle)
It ain′t American, it′s foreign (Bitch is foreign)
My bitch ain't American, she foreign (Bitch is foreign)
She is from Dubai (Dubai)
I got that check, then I flew by I roll by
Didn′t stop for nobody (Nobody)
I don't fuck with nobody (Fuck with nobody)
I′ll hop out and fuck your body and your party
We gon' come through, shoot your party
Who told you to party? Not GloGang
Fuck boy you is a no name (You′s a no name)
Boy hold my jury it's a pound
Brick on my wrist right now
And I'm finna go and scoop ya bitch
And I′m finna go and scoop some kicks
Finna pull up on my ex
Pull up on my ex make that bitch mad
I ain′t got no fucking type of respect
But I heard you get respect with TEC
I just bought a chopper let's do a hit
You wife for us, she doing dicks
I got a .30 with a stick
I′m Glo Gang, we hella rich
These niggas hate but niggas bitches
These niggas tellin, niggas snitches
And you know snitches they get stitches
Pulling up and you get digits
Talking numbers, hunnid rounds
Catch you lacking it's man down
When I kill you, Ima frown
Ain′t no fucking laughing or playing around
Writer(s): Keith Cozart, Don Paschall Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com