Fox 5 Lyrics by Lil Keed ft. Gunna is latest English song with music also given by them. Fox 5 song lyrics are written by Lil Keed.
Fox 5 Song Detail
Singer: Lil Keed, Gunna
Composer: Lil Keed, Gunna
Lyrics by: Lil Keed
Fox 5 Lil Keed
(Let’s go, Mario)
Man, all the hoes in the fu**in’ background, y’all shut the fu** up
fu** you talkin’, man, R5 in the fu**in’ building
Show some respect
Kick them folks out the spot, slime
She still talkin’? (No)
Oh, okay
Free Homicide, it was just a homicide, yeah, in the daytime
Yeah, seen a b**ch rob ’em, know we’ll kill him, thinkin’ he gon’ take mine
Know I’m ballin’ on a b**ch ass ni**a, and I pass his ho like it’s Matt Ryan
Yeah, you live longer if you mind your business, ’cause I’ma mind mine
I grab a carbine, lil’ boy, my b**ch, she fu**in’ on toys
Bored, then jump off the porch, smokin’ opp pack in the Royce
I’m with R5, R5
Catch you at the red light, black out
Yeah, we guaranteed to shoot his lights out
Yeah, I guarantee these ni**as tap out
Rich ni**a, I don’t eat Popeyes
Presidential Rollie, brought the clock out
And I know you ni**as tryna gain clout
Yeah, you know we’re gonna FOX 5 ’em
Yeah, you know we’re gonna FOX 5 ’em
Yeah, you know we’re gonna FOX 5 ’em
Yeah, we’re gonna FOX 5 ’em (FOX 5 ’em)
Don’t make me call the maybe call the clock stopper (Clock stopper)
Ah, pretty lil’ vibe, skeetin’ in her eye
Nickname jaw locker (Nickname jaw locker)
Feel like I glide, I been gettin’ high
ni**a, I’m a pill popper (ni**a, I’m a pill popper)
We got ten hundred-round choppers (Nah)
Heard you was a junkie, used to steal copper (Nah)
Pull up, whip game proper
Money get A, lotta cake like Betty Crocker (Cake like Betty Crocker)
Uh, beatin’ through your bae, stalkers, I know every day robbers, gotta keep a door stopper (Gotta keep a door stopper)
Yeah, I be gettin’ more llama, Gunna, he a road runner, and his b**ch a headhunter (And his b**ch a headhunter)
Billions just like Ted Turner gotta keep a real burner, never been a store runner (Never been a store runner)
These b**ches yell, “Go, Gunna” (Go, Gunna)
You gotta be your own boss, uh (Own boss)
Dressed like a showoff, go and get it, don’t talk, let the money rub off (Let the money rub off)
Nah, these ni**as gettin’ cut off, this is not a love lost, we’ll never do soft (We’ll never do soft)
You pussy ni**as too soft (ni**as too soft)
Free all my ni**as, gotta prison walk (Free the gang)
Free Homicide, it was just a homicide, yeah, in the daytime
Yeah, seen a b**ch rob ’em, know we’ll kill him, thinkin’ he gon’ take mine
Know I’m ballin’ on a b**ch ass ni**a, and I pass his ho like it’s Matt Ryan
Yeah, you live longer if you mind your business, ’cause I’ma mind mine
I grab a carbine, lil’ boy, my b**ch, she fu**in’ on toys
Bored, then jump off the porch, smokin’ opp pack in the Royce
I’m with R5, R5
Catch you at the red light, black out
Yeah, we guaranteed to shoot his lights out
Yeah, I guarantee these ni**as tap out
Hundred round drum on your boy, and we just hopped out a Royce
We pullin’ up with a silencer, no, they ain’t makin’ noise
Man, I had to pack the shirt, man, I had to peppermint it
Yeah, I send a big blitz, yeah, I had to go and end it
Go and drop the fu**in’ pin, we’ll pull up in a minute
Yeah, I know the Lord mad at me ’cause a ni**a sinnin’
I ain’t talkin’ motherfu**in’ testin’ Ray J, man, I come out that Wraith just with motherfu**in’ bangers
I let that cutter hit every angle, I come out that back, whips like I’m Django
What the fu** a pussy boy had said?
I don’t know if he ain’t speakin’ slime language
And I just left town with ten, pockets on top, ni**a, no time to count us (Say what?)
Free Homicide, it was just a homicide, yeah, in the daytime
Yeah, seen a b**ch rob ’em, know we’ll kill him, thinkin’ he gon’ take mine
Know I’m ballin’ on a b**ch ass ni**a, and I pass his ho like it’s Matt Ryan
Yeah, you live longer if you mind your business, ’cause I’ma mind mine
I grab a carbine, lil’ boy, my b**ch, she fu**in’ on toys
Bored, then jump off the porch, smokin’ opp pack in the Royce
I’m with R5, R5
Catch you at the red light, black out
Yeah, we guaranteed to shoot his lights out
Yeah, I guarantee these ni**as tap out
Rich ni**a, I don’t eat Popeyes
Presidential Rollie, brought the clock out
And I know you ni**as tryna gain clout
Yeah, you know we’re gonna FOX 5 ’em
Yeah, you know we’re gonna FOX 5 ’em
Yeah, you know we’re gonna FOX 5 ’em