Rude Boy

[Hook]x2 Blood clot, roll up blood clot weed right now Rude boy, don't be rude boy or get shot down High as fuck Geeking like I'm Marley bitch come try your luck Homicide another track, hurry put your lighters up [Verse 1: Wooh Da Kid] Gun shots bangin' from the back block My strap cocked up and down Fiends running in and out the trap spot Late at night, don't get caught slipping better have your gun Front a young boy off a pack and he bound to run FN, keep it fully loaded, I ain't flexing I just went hard fucking Brittaney and her best friend Rude boy, I don't fuck with rude boy you food boy We don't fuck with snake niggas we know you a geek boy [Hook]x2 [Verse 2: Project Pat] Homicidal, must be suicidal Running off this vital, desert rifle We can get gangsta', like a disciple Blacked out, with the strap out Ran your fat mouth, to the wrong bitch Gun in chest blew your back out Dope sold to the young and old Cup of purple code [?] Ferrarri swag play me like I'm slow Put a fucking hole in his head Now a shit bag what the nigga wearing For the rest his life But I tried to take his life [Hook]x2 [Verse 3: Wooh Da Kid] Atlanta where I stay, ATL my home North Jamaica Queens running through my bones R.I.P. Dunk tatted on my face 808's quake 'tino drop the bass Blood clot, rude boy, hurry roll the weed now Rude boy, Wooh Da I'm the king with the fucking crown High as fuck geeking like I'm Marley and my uncle Snoop Try your luck, you gonna need an army just to fuck with Wooh [Hook]x2