Lyrics Gunplay – Black Inca

Dyin’ over pigeons
Tryna get fly
I’m ridin’, is you with it?
Don’t ask a nigga why

Few hitters owe me favors
Finna make you famous
Pull up on you whippin’
Empty clips up out the chamber
Knockin’ pictures off the wall
And wakin’ up the neighbors
Run off with the work
You gettin’ hurt, can’t nothin’ save ya
Cuttin’ off my conscience
Gettin’ on some Dom shit
Orchestrate the hit
And get to grinnin’ on some calm shit
Heard what happened, aw shit
Play it cool, guitar shit
Pop me a motherfucker
Ain’t talkin’ no bomb shit
Die tryna have that
Crib with the rider
Side buddy died in the backyard of the hideout
Heard they brought a black AR with the died out
Told me they ain’t care
They gon’ have the whole crowd out

Dyin’ over pigeons
Tryna get fly
I’m ridin’, is you with it?
Don’t ask a nigga why
Tired of the prayin’ and the wishin’
Indictments in my kitchen
Whippin’ up my vision
Lord, let me get mine

Reportin’ live from the trenches
Swingin’ for the fences
Schemin’ on revenges
On some old friendses
Penitentiary chances
High paid defenses
This how I escape convictions
I’m whipping up my vision
Bully beef and ganja
Now I’m pullin’ forms up
Ridin’ with the doors up
Pour the pint, dozin’
Lucky now I’m chosen
Pena got murdered
Mama never got closure
But that’s the way I goes

Still jerkin’ blooker
Crucial with the cooker
Floatin’ in the ghost
Throwin’ deuces out the window
Six phones, speak in codes
Plug say comprendo
Touchin’ down, choppin’
They like buttons on Nintendo

Dyin’ over pigeons
Tryna get fly
I’m ridin’, is you with it?
Don’t ask a nigga why
Tired of the prayin’ and the wishin’
Indictments in my kitchen
Whippin’ up my vision
Lord, let me get mine