Song Lyrics

Off top, run a nigga out his socks
Niggas talk more than bitches
Niggas really be on cock though
Just fucked a ho out in France
Paint her face like Picasso
I iced out my vatos, I'm really up
Big ass Beemmer, big Benz and my Bentley next
Don't play around on my phone, ho, gimme sex
Watch on my wrist out of date, but it's Rolex
Grizzley up next, I'm up now
Strap your bullet vest

Five hundred fifty, six hundred hundreds
Seven hundred twenties, let's get straight to it
Eight hundred tens, what's that, eight bands?
Hit the store and get some rubber bands
Let's get straight to it
Everybody come together, everybody got the plan
He came with you, so if he steal it fall on you, he on your ass
Have your mans call his mans, make sure they ain't movin' fast
Soon as they touch Atlanta, get with Boat
Secure the bag, nigga

Oh that bag secure, that's on my mama, bro
Asian li'l ho, she ride that dick, Yokohama flow
Made that shit double, got an Uzi, I don't scuffle
Not a banger but that banger in my car like an airbag
Niggas only aimin' in the sky, call those Air Mags
All up in Neiman's, coppin' shit like f*ck a price tag
I'm ballin', ain't near a rap nigga in the game that I'm callin'
If I need help, I'll dial it by my se-celf

You swear your bitch faithful, she sent her location
I hit her at the trap in Decatur, she basic
Chop with the laser, get decapitated
Can't smoke, I'm on papers, hold on, this my Jamaican (love one)
Niggas want me dead, so I'm steady prayin'
Ain't no disrespect without retaliation
F*ck a hotel, I hit her in the basement
Text her later like, "I'm done with you
I got a situation, baby"

Well shit, bro, let me get her then
I'ma dog her out then switcheroo into the lion's den
Nigga talkin' down, my bro got more heat than a fryin' pan
Gucci 'round my hair, wrapped tight like Taliban

Like I'm Taliban, how we drop shit, go
Lot of dreadheads, lot of chopsticks
Touch my nigga Yachty, get your top ripped
Don't ask the price if you know you ain't tryna cop shit

You the type to look around but never cop shit
Ayy, I'm the type to buy the store, make 'em restock it, ayy
Beam on everything I own, I will not miss
Grizzley by my side like a pilot ridin' cockpit

Yachty I might stop rappin' for this one reason
If the feds hear this shit I'm doin' a hundred seasons
In the hood, shootin' craps in my Yeezys
Put angels on you niggas who be playin' like y'all demons, you dig?

Middle finger to them niggas hatin' and fakin'
They plottin' on my death, I give their mothers deep penetration
Diamond choker for some reason give me pure ventilation
Every real nigga livin' will respect this collaboration

We the bust down brothers, check the Rollies out
Say you winnin' one more time, I'm pullin' trophies out
Niggas know we out, no Shaqs or Kobes out
In other words, I'm with all shooters that'll blow you down

From the D to the A, put respect on it
If that's your ho, why my dick got her mouth on it?
I'm from the south, I got diamonds in my teeth
I got fur on my fleece, my new ring could pay your lease

Lease, nigga
Chain on my dresser next to my indictment
When they said not guilty I was so excited
From the A to the D, bitch you heard Yachty
Wraith comin' this summer, I'ma have your bitch drivin'
Bitch!

Martin Mccurtis, Miles Parks Mccollum, Terry Wallace

The duration of From the D to the A is 2:38 minutes and seconds.