Off The Court Lyrics

Song:	Off The Court
Singer:	SleazyWorld Go, Polo G, Einer Bankz
Music:	Einer Bankz, Sheffmade
Lyrics:	SleazyWorld Go, Polo G, Einer Bankz, Sheffmade
Album:	More Than A Shooter (2024)

(Tuned Up)
(Ayo, Sheff)

My lil’ n!gga shoot sh!t on and off the court like Ja Morant
Got the lo’, and like “Ring Around the Ro’,” my n!gga spinned
Heard he died and took a sh!t, nasty ass left with a stench
Get a n!gga drenched, heard his ass got sat down like a bench

And the Glock don’t straddle no fists, and this b!tch go both ways (This b!tch go both–)
Shoot a Glizzy like Lil Baby, I wave this b!tch like, “Hey” (Grrt)
I don’t usually respond to n!ggas dissin’, I wait ’til we bump
Switch up on a Glock, make bullets spread, this b!tch shoot like a pump (Freh, freh)
We roll all our opps up in a ‘Wood, what’s-his-name a blunt (Ayy, what’s-his), what’s-his-name a strain
Heard you got chased and you ran on yo’ mans (I heard you)
We lay n!ggas down for dissin’ us
Watch the sh!t you Tweet (Watch the sh!t you Tweet)
Think he got Benadryl in the chop’ how it make n!ggas sleep (Shh)
It make n!ggas nap
It make n!ggas go to bed for real (Uh-huh)
Last opp tried to run, almost made it, but he tripped and fell (Come on)

Pull up spin, hop out the car, he tried to run, he ain’t gettin’ too far
Walk down on him, “Grrah, grrah,” I got my stick in the club like Ja
f**k n!gga tweak in this b!tch, hollows eatin’ this sh!t, yeah, I’m bound to open his head
We throw up Bs, b!tch, lil’ foenem keep lettin’ off rounds, we only see red
Go-go, green light, they won’t frontline on these nights
We catch a n!gga in traffic, a shot to his top from the left make him lean right
Light bill high from all these switches, red dot on my beam bright
It ain’t sh!t to ball these b!tches, I show a ho what my team like
Lil’ bro just told me he wanna go kill, so I gotta coach him to step one
Aim for his face when you blowin’ the steel to make sure you really gon’ catch some
When you sit down with the law, don’t squeal, just close your mouth when that test come
Lawyers and bond money, I spent a mill’, so foenem’, they ain’t gotta stress none, gang

Made n!ggas smoke, swing the door, hop out and we scope (Hop out and we scope)
Hop out and we shoot, we won’t stop spinnin’ ’til we catch some more (No cap)
We won’t stop bendin’ blocks ’til we catch opps and get our licks back
Bullets hit his gut, he tightened up, he got a six-pack (Bah)
n!gga doin’ all that d!ck suckin’ on the ‘net, got his b!tch cracked (Huh?)
Don’t send them lil’ n!ggas over here, it’s gon’ be a mismatch (Gon’ be a mismatch)
I fire n!ggas up, lay n!ggas down, call me a babysitter (What up?)
This b!tch swallow kids, f**k abortion, b!tch a baby killer (What the f**k?)
b!tch a soul taker, nut chaser, whole d!ck facer (sh!t)
She a real muncher, head huncher, real d!ck taster (Real)
I catch me a opp, he gettin’ laced up like a shoe (For real)
I’m like Taylor Jenkins, I call the plays, my n!gga shoot (Grrt)