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Boys From The Field - Free For All Lyrics



Boys From The Field - Free For All Lyrics




Two poles in this load, I wish I had mine
Got a bad bitch butt naked on FaceTime You only got one life, so don't waste time
Wide open at the three point versus damn time Still gotta hustle every day, I ain't made
Mine I mean, I ain't make enough

And if you don't f*ck with SJ, you could SMD Older homie trippin', hit a chick, got a STD
Yellow, black and a racial couple, no bumblebee Ballin', getting checks like my team and AFC
Rap shit kinda easy to me like 1, 2, 3 Hit em with a like combo, like 1, 2, 3
Rap shit kinda easy to me like ABC Hit em with a like combo, like 1, 2, 3

Beat a nigga ass and call a stop, I'm in red bottoms
Beat a nigga ass and stop him out on some cold shoes
Beat a nigga ass, ah, I can't keep saying that Hit him up with this flat drum, damn
Smokin' on a pack hotbox and I barely could breathe

Dope smoke all in my lungs, it's great when I sneeze
Say I smoke too much, I'm like, bitch, please She hit the blunt one time, now she, damn
She hit the blunt one time, and then she took a knee
Runnin' to the back hella fast, I'ma broke my knees

Hotbox will load, it's like a chimney
Ask if I want bread, I'm like, pick me
Green bugs, okay, but I like blue cheese
Smokin' on it, damn, hold on

Smokin' on the dope so loud, make the cutty choke
Ayy, and then my bro-bro don't even smoke, huh
What, he a child of God
Beat a nigga ass, then go pray, I'm a child of God

Told the lil' yeah, we're on a route, like we're in a cop
Yeah, what he say
Told the lil' yeah, we're on a route, like we're in a cop
Steady runnin' to the back, almost tripped and fell

Niggas prayin' on my downfall, he goin' to hell
Now y'all talkin', man, you know I'm finna get in the shells
We can't f*ck at my crib, bitch, only a hotel
Movin' so much weight, nigga, work for the cartel

If I pay for the pussy, bitch, we at the motel
For my bro's girlfriend, that shit don't tell
Free all the thug that's locked in them jail cells
Pushin' hella weight, I ain't talkin' no dumb bill

Dunk on a nigga like my name is Markel
Put the ski on my head, now I wanna kill
All this walk in my cuff, hopin' that I don't spill
Bitch, I need a blowjob, I just rang the bill

Graduated from high school, but I don't know how to spill
Just cop these bands, that bitch ass so fat, it don't fit in my hand
Big ass Glock, nigga, it ain't finna jam
Big ass Glock, nigga, it came with a switch

And that shit, that's your whip, how I'm gon' f*ckin' miss
We got Dev on the beat and he gon' kill this
You a broke boy, me nigga, yo, change up
What's my nigga, how the f*ck he finna change up

Want a good money, I'm pullin' up in a Range truck
You a broke lil' nigga, get your bread up
I'm sippin' lean, so you know I gotta stay a double cup
I been f*ckin' around the hoes with them bubble butts

I only caught this bitch, I never ever wanna f*ckin' up
I ain't tryna f*ck, she ain't got no ass
Had to get that tummy tuck, or a BBL
Just got this wide, boy, hope you don't tell

If you do, I might go to sleep in the f*ckin' cell
Ayy, or a hotel
Had to leave that bitch, cause the coochie smell
Why she mad? She stank, she ain't gotta yell

40 God vocals on it, call it a deal
Make a nigga disappear like I did a spill
40 God locked up, so you know I gotta pay his bill
Let that shit go, talk like 6-4

A lil' through the bop-bop shit, 304
I just get chill, and I'ma get some more
Tryna rap like me, you can't steal my flow
Can't copy me, got a bag, now this bitch wanna talk to me

Now that shit crazy
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Two poles in this load, I wish I had mine
Got a bad bitch butt naked on FaceTime You only got one life, so don't waste time
Wide open at the three point versus damn time Still gotta hustle every day, I ain't made
Mine I mean, I ain't make enough

And if you don't f*ck with SJ, you could SMD Older homie trippin', hit a chick, got a STD
Yellow, black and a racial couple, no bumblebee Ballin', getting checks like my team and AFC
Rap shit kinda easy to me like 1, 2, 3 Hit em with a like combo, like 1, 2, 3
Rap shit kinda easy to me like ABC Hit em with a like combo, like 1, 2, 3

Beat a nigga ass and call a stop, I'm in red bottoms
Beat a nigga ass and stop him out on some cold shoes
Beat a nigga ass, ah, I can't keep saying that Hit him up with this flat drum, damn
Smokin' on a pack hotbox and I barely could breathe

Dope smoke all in my lungs, it's great when I sneeze
Say I smoke too much, I'm like, bitch, please She hit the blunt one time, now she, damn
She hit the blunt one time, and then she took a knee
Runnin' to the back hella fast, I'ma broke my knees

Hotbox will load, it's like a chimney
Ask if I want bread, I'm like, pick me
Green bugs, okay, but I like blue cheese
Smokin' on it, damn, hold on

Smokin' on the dope so loud, make the cutty choke
Ayy, and then my bro-bro don't even smoke, huh
What, he a child of God
Beat a nigga ass, then go pray, I'm a child of God

Told the lil' yeah, we're on a route, like we're in a cop
Yeah, what he say
Told the lil' yeah, we're on a route, like we're in a cop
Steady runnin' to the back, almost tripped and fell

Niggas prayin' on my downfall, he goin' to hell
Now y'all talkin', man, you know I'm finna get in the shells
We can't f*ck at my crib, bitch, only a hotel
Movin' so much weight, nigga, work for the cartel

If I pay for the pussy, bitch, we at the motel
For my bro's girlfriend, that shit don't tell
Free all the thug that's locked in them jail cells
Pushin' hella weight, I ain't talkin' no dumb bill

Dunk on a nigga like my name is Markel
Put the ski on my head, now I wanna kill
All this walk in my cuff, hopin' that I don't spill
Bitch, I need a blowjob, I just rang the bill

Graduated from high school, but I don't know how to spill
Just cop these bands, that bitch ass so fat, it don't fit in my hand
Big ass Glock, nigga, it ain't finna jam
Big ass Glock, nigga, it came with a switch

And that shit, that's your whip, how I'm gon' f*ckin' miss
We got Dev on the beat and he gon' kill this
You a broke boy, me nigga, yo, change up
What's my nigga, how the f*ck he finna change up

Want a good money, I'm pullin' up in a Range truck
You a broke lil' nigga, get your bread up
I'm sippin' lean, so you know I gotta stay a double cup
I been f*ckin' around the hoes with them bubble butts

I only caught this bitch, I never ever wanna f*ckin' up
I ain't tryna f*ck, she ain't got no ass
Had to get that tummy tuck, or a BBL
Just got this wide, boy, hope you don't tell

If you do, I might go to sleep in the f*ckin' cell
Ayy, or a hotel
Had to leave that bitch, cause the coochie smell
Why she mad? She stank, she ain't gotta yell

40 God vocals on it, call it a deal
Make a nigga disappear like I did a spill
40 God locked up, so you know I gotta pay his bill
Let that shit go, talk like 6-4

A lil' through the bop-bop shit, 304
I just get chill, and I'ma get some more
Tryna rap like me, you can't steal my flow
Can't copy me, got a bag, now this bitch wanna talk to me

Now that shit crazy
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Robert Hernadez, Skye Jamison, Carlos Arias
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid




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