Letra de W.Y.A

[Chorus]
He like, "Where you at? What you doing?" I'm like, "Who is that? Where you from?"
I don't trust these fake hitters who all riding 'round with that gun
You be talking like a killer, you can come and get you some
And I don't trust these bitches either, tryna fuck me out my funds
He like, "Where you at? What you doing?" I'm like, "Who is that? Where he from?"
I don't trust these fake hitters who all riding 'round with that gun
You be talking like a killer, you can come and get you some
And I don't trust these bitches either, tryna fuck me out my funds

[Verse 1]
They like, "Where you at, C-Dot?" Said, "I'm right here on the spot"
I ain't runnin', I ain't duckin', I'ma stand all these shots
Only time you see me running, when it's from the fucking cops
Everyday I wake up mad, I'm out here tryna dodge a charge
I ain't Tay-K, I ain't do the race, bitch, I beat the case
Walk outside, light a cigarette and blow it in their face
Everyday, bitches know my name, rocking on the stage
What you sayin', thought I told your bitch ass we are not the same
I got stabbed on Forest Ave in Portland, Maine, but it ain't work
Yeah, they tried to take my life, but now I'm coming back for yours
I'ma put the barrel in your mouth and make you do the Kurt
Wear your shirt, make you hurt, leave you six feet in the dirt
I ain't gang affiliated, but my trigger fingers work
I ain't never kill nobody, but you just might be my first
If I see you 'round my way and I don't like the way you lurk
I'ma let my pistol hang and have you leaving in a hearse

[Chorus]
He like, "Where you at? What you doing?" I'm like, "Who is that? Where you from?"
I don't trust these fake hitters who all riding 'round with that gun
You be talking like a killer, you can come and get you some
And I don't trust these bitches either, tryna fuck me out my funds
He like, "Where you at? What you doing?" I'm like, "Who is that? Where he from?"
I don't trust these fake hitters who all riding 'round with that gun
You be talking like a killer, you can come and get you some
And I don't trust these bitches either, tryna fuck me out my funds

[Verse 2]
Ha ha, yeah, tryna fuck me out my guac
She give top to my whole squad, if she bitching, we cut her off
All you pussy haters soft, all you doing is pillow talk
Need to stop cuffin' these broads and need to stop actin' so fraud
Get your mind on your money, need to start walkin' the talk
I'm Bruce Springsteen in these streets and you can call me the boss
If you address me as "C-Dot" then I don't trust you from the start
I see snakes up in my grass, so I'ma shoot 'em out my yard
I got AKs and them Glocks riding legal up in my car
So much kick back on that forty-seven, leaning when I fire
As you see, my Polo jeans, they be holding up all my iron
Got that vest up on my chest, only headshots will get me dyin'

[Bridge]
Hold my index to ring finger up, go read between the lines
Online gangsters say I'm acting, just know that they fucking lyin'
If you looking at me wrong, then I'ma wipe that fucking smile
If you hopped up in my Polos, your ass couldn't walk a mile

[Chorus]
He like, "Where you at? What you doing?" I'm like, "Who is that? Where you from?"
I don't trust these fake hitters who all riding 'round with that gun
You be talking like a killer, you can come and get you some
And I don't trust these bitches either, tryna fuck me out my funds
He like, "Where you at? What you doing?" I'm like, "Who is that? Where he from?"
I don't trust these fake hitters who all riding 'round with that gun
You be talking like a killer, you can come and get you some
And I don't trust these bitches either, tryna fuck me out my funds