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letra de round twelve - grindhard e & ysr gramz

[verse 1: youngkingg]
i had to quit poppin’ pills, i was gettin’ out of hand
a n-gga tried to slide on my mans and he died ’cause his stick was jammed
these b-tches talkin’ ’bout, “do you know who i am?” i don’t give a d-mn
when that b-tch in my hands, i get to blowin’ like a ceiling fan
catch a case, it made me slow down, but still’ll take a chance
yeah, i been locked up before, but won’t go again
let a n-gga disrespect me, i’ma slap him with a whole band
four, five n-ggas hopped out shootin’, they thought it was a band

[verse 2: krispylife kidd]
naw, e hopped out shootin’, they thought it was a kid
we ’bout to spin on his block and do it again
i just got catfished, i’m finna hit her friend
she don’t know money, i sold a five and she thought it was ten
you a dummy ho
sn-tch this, you got a better chance of jumpin’ with no bungee rope
my last one hold fifty, this a hundred, though
drop on a n-gga from a long distance, split his cantaloupe
[verse 3: grindhard e]
i’ma walk up, get close up, and i’ma come alone
shoot out of town, ain’t no tellin’ when i’m comin’ home
two hoes in this yellow whip, now it look just like a honeycomb
my n-gga in the feds for conspiracy, that’s the reason i don’t trust my phone
wock’, par, and a lil’ tris in my styrofoam
got a quarter from a n-gga, smoked a blunt, then i threw it in the garbage for him
a n-gga phone died, then i took all his sales when i charged him for ’em
a n-gga want this off of what i know, then you know i’ma charge him for it

[verse 4: ysr gramz]
since the age sixteen, i had a money phone
unc’ sell dope, did dope, he a rolling stone
caught an opp at the mall with his kids, i’m finna pick a bone
he said he had twenty-three p’s, i told him come alone
my n-gga got twenty-five to life, he ain’t comin’ home
we finna slide on the opps, but bro ain’t comin’, though
these n-ggas stupid, cuffin’ b-tches that we nutted on
we caught his ass waitin’ on the bus, now he runnin’ home

[verse 5: ftos twan]
the city know what’s up, we known for sendin’ n-ggas home
tryna turn up, camped out, sent they ass home
caught him out in traffic, he ain’t have his heat, man, i did his ass bold
b-tch, i send shots at his whip ’til i can’t no more
i told his ass he can’t run when that draco blow
n-gga sent his lo’, told me slide, n-gga, say no more
it’s chopsticks when we ride, that’s what you gotta know
and let a n-gga speak down on tay, then he gotta go

- grindhard e ysr gramz

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