Demon Mode Lyrics by Nardo Wick
Trademark!
Ain’t got to turn on demon mode, that shit be automatic
Ain’t got to tell her, “Take ’em, off, ” that shit be automatic
See this lil’ cube on the back, it make it automatic
Nigga ain’t teach me to be real, that shit was automatic
Gave her what’s under my belly, now, she love me
Walk in the building, now, all the pretty bitches tug me
Her hair got caught on my chain when she tried to hug me
Found out I hit his ho, he see me and he mug me
Every time I see the camera, throw the gang up
We some dogs and got on chains, but, they can’t tame us
Every time that one corner get hit up, they blame us
We like a record label, make a nigga famous
Say he a lame, yeah, okay lames still pussy
I’m like, “Bro, why the fuck you keep lookin’?”
Ayy, man, this beat can have that whole crowd duckin’
The clip got somethin’ in it, pull it ’til it’s nothin’
It got hoes in the telly, racks in the duffle
Choppers in the Sprinter Van bust a nigga bubble
They say I’m all alone, I see they in a group
But, this lil’ cube on the back’ll break up a nigga huddle
What’s the play? (What’s the play?)
What’s the word? (What’s the word)
You say they over there (over there)
Fuck it, go and swerve
We really get into it (bang)
We really do it
We livin’ what we rappin’, we not just makin’ music
Pull up thirty deep, but, I’m by myself
“Nardo, what you mean?” I got like twenty-nine shells
Hopped out patty cake, that mean I hopped out clappin’ shit
Hopped out Will Smith, that mean I hopped out smackin’ shit
And I keep that pipe, I feel like Pookie, nigga
I’m so icy, boy, I feel like Gucci, nigga
I make yo’ block hot, I think I’m Tunechi, nigga
My lil’ badass, I feel like Boosie, nigga
She got the nerve to pop a Perc’ before I fuck her
Put yo’ phone in the safe then we can cuddle
We can fuck a thousand times, still ain’t a couple
Or take you shoppin’ ’cause I’m havin’, I ain’t no sucker
Just like I left the barber shop, I’m comin’ trim
Pull over, give you wood, yeah, I’m one of them
Blam ’em in the mall, yeah, one of them
Peon, pussy boy, can’t call me one of them
Pull up in what you run on in the ‘Burbs
Threat who? Come again, say what?
Lil’ nigga got some nerves
“Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang”
That because of words
“Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang”
Got what he deserve
Pull up Trackhawk, farm in my hood, lot of horses in ’em
She like a gun range
Know that ‘ussy good, I keep bustin’ in it
Like a toothpick, stick to his teeth like it’s somethin’ in it
Pointin’ fingers, move it back and forth until you hear it clickin’
Ain’t got to turn on demon mode, that shit be automatic
Ain’t got to tell her, “Take ’em, off, ” that shit be automatic
See this lil’ cube on the back, it make it automatic
Nigga ain’t teach me to be real, that shit was automatic
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