22 In Da Studio Bitch All You Niggas I ain’t playing they hit my homie 22 shot glock put that pussyboy in that shotta why tryna catch me lacking when you always know that I’m packing I keep it going like what’s happening I hate him breathing I’m takin his breath he got a 17 and he tried to stretch put him down I showed him strength left that pussyboy bleeding up on his head nigga don’t test me cause you ain’t a threat I shoot to the right my flag on the left fuck with the g I’ll leave the death recipe so don’t be testing me at the Brodie crib ima ask him what he lending me 500,000 slid to the block now I’ve found him he was talking on me I had to shoot him like Larry countiain