Rumble – Pop Smoke lyrics

Lyrics Rumble – Pop Smoke

Rumble lyrics
Step on the field, watch ’em crumble
Talkin’ for what but you ain’t put no work
All that talk but you ain’t wanna rumble
Knuckle up, or get put on a shirt
Send shots, hit you and your uncle
Talkin’ for what but you ain’t been the first
Sauce drip like I stepped in a puddle (Puddle, bah, bah)
Don’t be fooled by these frames, get left in the dirt
Yeah, I’m not with the talkin’ or linkin’ shit, disrespect,
nigga lit
I just stick to the breesh, lay low ’cause these niggas be
ignorant (Brr)
Friday, I’m hittin’ shit, where I’m parkin’ my V’s like this

Flatbush got me stuck on a bracelet (Precinct)
Tell the DA, “I ain’t writing no statements” (Writing no
statements)
Big boot, have you stuck in the pavement
Talkin’ the books, have you wait for arraignment
Tellin’ them lies, I can’t give ’em the facts
Balmains keep a Nina attached
Big body where I’m packin’ my MAC
Big 092 but I stay with a MAC
Skate to my block, but you ain’t do shit
Say you got chops, but you ain’t shoot shit
Come to my block, we keep two grips
Call the real choppers, we spin in two whips

Niggas talk, for what?
They know, we bend blocks for sure, shoot what, shoot who?
Caught in the road, that pole give you two shots, who hot?
Don’t give a fuck who block, free Clax, free Shots
Don’t give a fuck, who flock, get your hoe shot up (Bah, bah)

Certain niggas if you touch that’ll get you brushed (Bah, bah)
I ain’t talkin’ no bluff when I’m tryin’ up (Skrrt)
Shooters in the club, ready to gun bust
You know what’s up, keep my Drac’ tucked ain’t no runnin’ up
Hundreds in the bag, you know how the Cloccs move
When I see an opp treesh, yeah she scream “Woo”
All my niggas on the road, tryna eat food
Cook it up, couple tracks, on the new feuds
Switch it up, now I’m back on that trap shit (On that trap)
Hit the block, hit the road, get it back quick (Get it back)
Had to bake half the work, make it backflip (Make it backflip)
Posted up on that block, for that package (Skrrt)
Shooters on call, this ain’t no practice (Bah, bah)
Act quick, at your dome with that MAC stiff

Fast whip, spin your block, know you’re tragic
Bitches know Floss with, all my Woos trappin’
Ain’t no average
09 to the Cloccs, all my niggas on point for that action
And we packin’, sick a nigga if he jackin’ that he stackin’
(GDK)
Know my nigga savage
Skinny nigga but my pockets full of cabbage (Breesh)
Folk treesh from the floss, so they average
Blue cheese make these bitches throw they ass quick (Give me
that)

Now I’m on top, hands out for the little six (Nah)
Man these niggas sick
Would they ask for the sauce if you ain’t post the pic of your
latest shits, can’t get the drip (Never)
Niggas came for the sauce, that’ll get you clipped careful with
the four-fifth (Bah, bah, grah)
Hundred doors kicked (Grrr), keys in the cut
Don’t try your luck, couple shots to your gut
Told my niggas ain’t no lettin’ up (
One call and I bet my shooters lift you up

Niggas talk, for what?
They know, we bend blocks for sure, shoot what, shoot who?
Caught in the road, that pole give you two shots, who hot?
Don’t give a fuck who block, free Clax, free Shots
Don’t give a fuck, who flock, get your hoe shot up

Boy, you know it’s that 100 Cloccs shit, man
Nigga, we out here, nigga
Fuck is you talkin’ bout, nigga?
Spin the block, nigga
Posted up on the block every day, nigga
Spin the block, niggaaa

Rumble – Pop Smoke lyrics
Rumble - Pop Smoke
Scroll to top