Kay Flock – The DOA Tape Lyrics ft Set Da Trend

Kay Flock - The DOA Tape Lyrics
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New music alert from Kay Flock – The DOA Tape Lyrics, audio mp3

Kay Flock comes with new song tagged “The DOA Tape”.

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Kay Flock – The DOA Tape Lyrics

Grrah-grrah
DOA, DOA
Like
Like, grrah-grrah
Grrah-grrah
Be yourself and stay up in ya’ lane (Lane)
Why you runnin’? I ain’t even flame
Shoot wit’ double hands, that’s how I got my aim
Eli got shot, he walkin’ wit’ a cane (Cane)
And Sha Gz keep mentionin’ my name (Like, huh?)
When you see me, nigga, you better flame, like
And you said Dougie B gon’ get murdered?
That’s my brother, I’m uppin’ that thang

DOA, I’ma geek on the track (Bitch)
EBK, I’ma leave it like that, like (Like that)
Everything dead, I ain’t givin’ no dap (Bitch)
If you ridin’ wit’ ’em them, then you getting tapped (Like, grrah)
And they likе, “Kay, he kinda cool” (Cool)
Niggas pussy, nigga, we ain’t cool
Niggas smokin’ wit’ niggas who smokin’ my mans?That’s on bro, I’m uppin’ on him too (Grrah, grrah)
Niggas politickin’, they bе fake (Fake)
Wanna talk, then fuck up out my face
My chop’ getting up, fuck who in the way (Like, what?)
Get up wit’ me if you feel a way
Or I get up wit’ you nigga, either way (Where you at?)

Done talkin’, bitch it’s EBK (Like, huh?)
700, bitch, it’s DOA
When you see me, nigga, word to Bla

Speak on the dead, no takin’ it back (What?)

I be buggin’, I’m quick to attack (Damn)
I can’t go out like Lotti or Matt (What?)
Keep a pole, brodie told me, “Don’t lack”
Mula keep shootin’, leave ’em on the pavement (Baow)
I can’t talk about that situation
Pop me a Perky, got me elevated
They like, “YB, you different”
Run down, watch me get to clickin’
I start throwin’ bullets like a pitcher
Lotti, he dead, spin through the Hav (Gang)
I’m tryna shoot it, aim it at his face
Too many opps livin’ up, it’s a shame
Sha Gz got beat, where the fuck was your gang?
Two sleez slide up wit’ the stick, let it bang (Grrah, wit’ the stick, let it bang, like, wit’ the stick, let it—)
On court, actin’ bad wit’ a deucey (Deucey)
Talkin’ hot, you get burned like a loosie
After loosie, get schooled wit’ this toolie
Baba, she lined him, tricked him, he a foolie
Totin’ guns, ain’t talkin’ Call of Duty (Grrah)
Wet him up, ain’t talkin’ no jacuzzi (Grrah)
Mr. Make-A-Movie, leave ’em gooey (Grrah, grrah)
You gon’ hold the stick or you gon’ boom it? (Grrah-grrah, boom)