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letra de boom god 2 - go yayo

we gone scoot up, we gone push yo’ b-tch, we hoppin’ out with sticks

it’s a [?]

scoot up on a n-gga, people askin’ questions
like, “what happened to him?”, “why he on a stretcher?”
aye, balenciaga’s, 15,00 dollars, these not sketchers.(uh uh)
she wanna know why they call me boom god, cause imma bless ya (amen)
oh my f-ckin’ god, oh my god, omg!

put a p-ssy n-gga on a t-shirt, i’m major league and you n-ggas too pee-wee
never broke again, i feel like i’m yb
[?] got me askin’ like, “why me?”
glizzy on me, pray a f-ck n-gga try me
your chances to rob me [?] are unlikely
imma let it go, ‘case they don’t get me
to cut throat
no these n-ggas ain’t with me
imma wife his hoe, like he was sneezing
cameras at the house i can’t let ‘em sneak me
p-ssy police down the street tryna peep me
runnin’ out the back, toss the pack, gotta flip the scene
codeine-junkie, i’m addicted, i need lean!
drank on my tummy, got perk on my spleen
hit ‘me up close, n-gga i don’t need no beam
get you myself, n-gga i don’t need no team
martin luther king-in it, i was there dreamin’
you was at school, n-gga i was servín trap fiends
everything third-degree mixtape got no clean
go yayo og, f-ck a n-gga mean?
i got the racks, i’ve been up since 19
run up on me then i’m up in my heat
b-tch, 2-2-3, knock him right off his feet
hall-of-famer, all them records i beat
good [?] in a week
won’t let ‘me take me i put that on [?]
your diamonds too cheap boy them ain’t no vv
he was cappin, now he on abc
hit him 2 times, now he sleep
everyone, f-ck it n-gga make it 3
make a diss track, get shot if it’s [?]
these f-ck n-ggas know i’m the king of the streets
ain’t [?] never put pressure on me
we the n-ggas droppin’ sh-t when it’s we!
we the n-ggas get it hot [?] they see
he got rocked now his ass in a box no capri
spot got hit with a [?] to ask why i had a mask
told ‘em i’m finna ski
all i wanted was the cash
b-tch i’ve been servin’ bags since i was at the skating rink
2014 i was slippin’ easter pink
now i’m mixin’ all the red with [?]
trap finals champion, i’m the mvp
og gas with the lean in my therapy
all that lil’ talkin, he think that he scaring me
up the burnin’ now he on his knees begging’ please
“please yayo, don’t shoot!”
“nah you was just talkin’, you that it was sweet”
too late for apology, b-tch ain’t no peace
call the police cause this n-gga deceased

- go yayo

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