Good Dope Lyrics - Gunna

[Chorus: Marlo & Gunna] 

Got a nigga stackin' caps 

I'm servin' them bags, I run through 'em all dog 

Fuckin' on your bitch when you call dog 

You a bitch goin' through a bitch call log 

And the Hi-Tech red, that's real raw 

Take a sip of that nigga, wash the pill down 

He a gangster but a nigga still squeal now 

Fuck boy tell me how you still real now 

I can hit my lawyer, get ten pounds 

Too late for you try to be real now 

Soup truck coupe, switch lanes now 

I pull up to the show Balmained down 

Copycat try to have the same sound 

Cooked up good dope, run the J's out 

Pull up with a stick, put a bullet in his mouth 

Never cashin' in, took the cash route 

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[Verse 1: Marlo] 

And them sold out dates got a nigga back in they bag 

You reach for the cash and I bust at your ass 

And I was just sippin' on Act 

Got a bustdown cuban link choker, mink gotta match 

Bitch say she wanna fuck me, no strings attached 

And I was gettin' fresh just to work in the trap 

When the trap came, nigga got work in the map 

And don't talk on phones, nigga workin' that tap 

[Verse 2: Gunna] 

Niggas owe the mob, better pay they tab 

Whole lot of money, gotta keep my strap 

Tried to stop sippin' syrup but a nigga relapsed 

Bangin' my gang like a motherfuckin' frat 

I don't love a ho, I can never get attached 

Gave your ass a loan and you better bring it back 

Push up on your ho, she was lookin' like a snack 

Niggas play tough 'til a nigga get whacked 

All the coupes fast, nigga might as well drag 

Hundred thousand cash in the Goyard bag 

Pull up in your hood nigga, I don't need a pass 

All blue hundreds, got these fuck niggas mad 

Robbed a lil nigga, ain't have to use mags 

Two-hundred twenty, nigga had to do the dash 

Killin' all you bullies, think you bad to the bad 

Marlo countin' Coogi with two hundred on the dash 

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[Chorus: Marlo & Gunna] 

Got a nigga stackin' caps 

I'm servin' them bags, I run through 'em all dog 

Fuckin' on your bitch when you call dog 

You a bitch goin' through a bitch call log 

And the Hi-Tech red, that's real raw 

Take a sip of that nigga, wash the pill down 

He a gangster but a nigga still squeal now 

Fuck boy tell me how you still real now 

I can hit my lawyer, get ten pounds 

Too late for you try to be real now 

Soup truck coupe, switch lanes now 

I pull up to the show Balmained down 

Copycat try to have the same sound 

Cooked up good dope, run the J's out 

Pull up with a stick, put a bullet in his mouth 

Never cashin' in, took the cash route