Dirty Stick Lyrics

[Intro: Goonew]
Cha, cha, Goonrich
Cha, Homicide
Gang, Goonrich
Ridin' 'round in that Kompressor with my lil bro Good Intent, aye
What, what, what

[Verse 1: Goonew]
Pull on the block with a dirty stick
Junkies, they comin' so I'm beatin' my wrist
f*ck on that ho and she suck the whole clique
[?] blue tips, yeah, I shoot the whole clique
Shootin' that Draco with two hands, bitch
Dunkin' too much, had to f*ck up my wrist
Ride in the foreign, you know that it's tinted
I'm servin' my auntie, she makin' me dinner (hey, auntie)
Percs comin' in and I'm f*ckin' a dentist
Live in the trap and I sleep in the kitchen
Still on the block with that 30 extension
Bitch I'm with lou [?],but he takin' your [?]
Homicide gang comin' through with the fit
I got [?], flood out the dope in the kitchen
Double back gang, hit him up if I'm missin'
I got the best [?], you can flow, you can dig it
Switch it up, cook, they was stealin' my swag
Hatin' ass nigga tryna eat up the dab
Hundred round drum, I ain't goin' out sad
OG, boy, told me how to beat up the pot
I'm f*ckin' this bitch and I'm smackin' her around
I'm Goonrich, bitch, and, I stay with the cash
f*ck up this beat 'cause I got the best swag
Come in the trap, you can get you the bag
I ain't from Atlanta, but I dip and I dab
I f*ck on a ho and I'm robbin' her dad
I'm sippin' on Tech, you sippin' on swag
If you want smoke, make a left on the ave
I come in the club and I'm throwin' them bands He wanted an ounce, but I gave him a half
I come in the trap and I'm doin' my dab
Homicide gang comin' through with the mag

[Verse 2: Lil Yachty]
Million dollar kid, totin' hollow tips
Chopper bust, sound like an adlib
Made the bitch slob, need a baby bib
Five cars parked at the new crib
New whip brown like a baby back smoked rib
Hit a bitch, put her in the Uber, that's a roadkill
Coupe on 4 wheels, bitch off 4 pills
Iced out new grill

[Verse 3: Lil Dude]
Uh, me and Jay Brown in the big wheel
Spendin' the band on your block, it's a fish tail
Bitch, I'll still do the windmill
I don't f*ck with 12, man, I don't eat pig tails
Homicide Boys, leave the shit on your windsheild
Hop out the cut, Hoodrich got big steel
Luciano smoke, I ain't here
Post in the trenches with my niggas all night for real

[Verse 4: Jay Brown]
You ain't talkin' money, shut the f*ck up
I done fell in love with my bitch 'cause she stuck up, yeah
Nina Ross with me, gotta tuck up
In the trap with the bag, tryna get my bucks up, yeah
4 ounces, gotta pour my Crush up
Money talk, bitch ass nigga need to hush up, yeah
Lil nigga got a nigga shook up
Lookin' for the kid, I advise you to look up, yeah
It ain't no limit on money we spendin' daily, Master P got the hook up, yeah
We in the trap with some butt naked bitches and them bitches know how to cook up, bitch

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