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Artist: Fredo Santana f/ Childish Gambino
Album:  Walking Legend (Mixtape)
Song:   Riot
Typed by: AZ Lyrics

[Intro: DJ]
Rest in peace Blood Money
Rest in peace Lil Rob
Rest in peace Odee
Rest in peace to all the fallen soldiers

[Chorus: Fredo Santana]
Glo'd up, taking selfies, I'm so selfish
This Mac-10 leave you wet up, just like a selfie
Hold up, say you got work but what you sellin'?
Niggas say they out here but really they be tellin'
Violence, violence, I'm a start some violence
Violence, violence, all my nigga violent
Violence, violence, don't make me start a riot
Violence, violence, all my niggas violent

[Verse 1: Fredo Santana]
Violence, violence, my money keep on pilin'
These bitches be so childish, these niggas be some actors
Blessin' to you bitches, I'm the motherfuckin' pastor
30 on my waist, don't make me turn your ass to Casper
Make me do a drill, do a hit, after my last blunt
These bitches ain't shit, that's why I fuck then I pass on
Baby you don't know me, acting like my homie
Coolin' in the trap somewhere smokin' OG
Watchin' out for ops and I'm watchin' out for police
My trap doin' numbers, got me ballin' like I'm Kobe, like I'm Kobe
Don't make me blank out and turn to the old me

[Chorus: Fredo Santana]

[Verse 2: Childish Gambino]
I'm like hold up, hold up, hold up, that's why I tell promoters
I don't drink Champagne, shit I'd much rather be sober
It be chronic or Gin & Tonic, I'm so predominantly winning
On all this rap shit, the king of comedy
And writing, and all this acting
This ain't an act though, it's facts yo
I'm fucking hot bro, this shit Tobasco
Violence, violence, watch these niggas wildin'
Talkin' shit internet to my face, silence
These critics is fuckin' haters, they love to hate yo
But wouldn't say that shit to Fredo cause they afraid yo
They don't feel him, no they don't feel him, they in they feelin's
He could rap but he shouldn't, tried to kill him, they couldn't
No one else understood him, he's a joke
Then why your favorite rapper asking me for help?
Oh I swear to God, oh I swear to God
We the realest niggas, ask my fuckin' squad
My money talk, you silent
My weed loud, you silent
My Tesla engine is silent
And you soft, more than college, oh
Slidin' in your top five, let 'em hate on that line

[Chorus: Fredo Santana]