Neat Machine - Pressa, Why G

Big chain I’m at your neck like a vampire

He say he in the trap but his pants fire (what a liar)

Your hoe’ll call me master, sire, your highness

I bend her over and she start whining

My swag costs more than your life are we gonna buy it

I put my shooters on him they gonna find him

First class fire man his life he can’t rewind it (can't rewind it)

Crodie take his top in no time

Crodie take his top in no time

(Verse 2: Pressa)

Uh Oh, hood trophy they gon' shoot for me

I’m in the trenches we pop off like ecstasy

My opps is dead to me, I come where the demons be

I’m sorry ma your little boy making Tennesse

And my niggas gotta have it doing anything

Wass Gang, I put that on everything

And whatchu know 'bout heroin?

UPS, get it off as soon as the pack is in

Eh, matter fact whatchu know 'bout packagin?

I used to be selling dope that was in packaging

My trap made flakka every day got me panicking

Remember when my nigga shot my nigga by accident

Lil bitch ya we Wass Gang, if you ain’t wass gang then you wash gang

We let your brains hang, we come from North Jane

I’m in the kitchen wit your aunt mane

And free pop, I could sell you rerock

They call me Pressa don’t let me creep up on ya

These hollisters turn a fuckboy to deadmihana

And you don’t want that call that they couldn’t find ya

Stay with a lighter, cops they riding by ya