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letra de us pt. 2 - big homiie g & ytb fatt

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[intro: big homiie g]
(you’ll fly too if you link up with frenchie)
woah (woah)

[verse 1: big homiie g]
my b-tch just text, she havin’ ptsd (how?), “you keep on nuttin’ in me” (ugh)
i replied, “i’m young and havin’ this sh-t, why not have a baby ’bout me?” (woah)
too much drank, might fall off my feet, freestyle, pour a cup every time i eat (woah, woah)
everywhere i go, all eyes on me, just like poppa to watch tv
this ain’t just a truck, this a cadillac v (skrrt)
jump in this b-tch, get massaged by seats (ooh)
i heard you gat raw, b-tch smack before (b-tch)
why your b-tch sayin’ you in the streets? (n-gga)
i heard your lil’ n-ggas just got whacked (baow)
i heard your whole gang bringin’ the g (g)
man, i outside, f-ckin’ this thick-ass b-tch (ugh)
you know how n-ggas be

[verse 2: ytb fatt]
i heard they outside lookin’ for me
bruh ‘nem sittin’ v on the way in the jeep
that’s what i hеard, i get drugs from the b-tch
you sweet, he ain’t see us, shots camе from the tree
i ain’t goin’ out, real k!llers ‘fore they k!ll that
told you they’ll shoot you in both of your knees
i ain’t goin’ out, real trappers
before they shot you, i thought they’d tap on your weed
psh, b-tch, that ain’t real, that’s weak (can’t fool me)
i had every side of the city (they wanna do me)
ten chains, this my image (big cubans)
i spent a dub at lenox (in poochie)
[verse 3: big homiie g]
i spent a dub at saks (at saks), i just be f-ckin’ on racks (woah)
how many lines you got in that soda? you ain’t pourin’ up like that (a four)
hmm, i left a bad b-tch on read (read), i don’t want nothin’ out her but her head (ugh)
i told lil’ bro whenever he catch ’em (what?), shoot a man, wear his buddy legs (baow)
overk!ll him, make sure he dead (grrt)
they ain’t solve sh-t, but a cop fled (skrrt)
whole lotta rounds from a switch and a bunch of smoke
what they news said? (brrt)

[verse 4: ytb fatt]
not what the news said
gotta blitz him, that’s what my crew did
all i know, i had the b-tch top floor at the penthouse, eatin’ on this broomstick
all i know, this ho tryna go home bougie, get hit with this pool stick
all i know, this ho tryna go home, psh, psh, psh, psh, loaf
titties on point, she jamaican (ooh)
fifty a show, blue bacon (ooh)
i got foxes in they hands, but they haitian (what they doin’?)
no questions, they pullin’ up quakin’ (frrt)

[verse 5: big homiie g]
give me that tris’, f-ck quagen (f-ck it)
already had that b-tch, you saved me (ooh)
n-gga, you better check that b-tch, ‘fore i f-ck that ho, doin’ all that wavin’ (ugh)
all i know, i don’t get them m&ms, this sh-t, i’m goin’ back robbin’ (goin’ back robbin’)
sn-tchin’ that chain in the rap game
and i’m ’bout the same, boy, my game (give me that)
b-tch keep sayin’ she love me, get my face tatted, then f-ck my name (f-ck my name)
all i see is us (us)
real talk, f-ck your game (f-ck ’em)
all i see is us (us)
real talk, f-ck your game (f-ck your game)
and i don’t know half of these n-ggas dissin’ me, tryna get some fame off my name (off my sh-t)

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