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letra de dat n**** - li rye

[intro]
huh huh, big 26 sh-t, you feel me
i’m high, i’ll throw fours up anywhere, i don’t give a f-ck where i’m at, n-gga
uh

[chorus]
i spent three bands on a fit and never wore that sh-t again
i spent too much up on some sh-t that was too big and gave it to my mans
eleven hundred on a jacket i couldn’t wear
b-tch, you know i’m out that south and i throw fours up in the air
all up in your city

[verse]
p-ssy claim he gangster, gotta come and show me that you with it
shoot you and your daddy in the face, b-tch, i don’t show no pity
walk down, leave ’em sh-tty
i spinned with smith ’cause i ain’t have no glizzy
real street n-gga, i don’t give a f-ck about no image
they act when i spin ’cause i pull up shooting sh-t just like a scrimmage
n-gga tried to come through spinning in a rental, turned that b-tch to a lemon
i’m on at least like seven percs a day, i ain’t got no limit
everybody in that south, they ’bout it, ’bout it like we the new no limit
catch ’em in traffic tryna ride in that redeye and turned it to a hemi
every gun i clutch go rrah, we don’t clutch no semis
b-tch, we got plenty switches and plenty more ammunition
these glizzies leave n-ggas twitching
push the b-tton, this b-tch start to glitching
on these percs, got my body itching
money got my hand doing the same thang
see me in traffic, bet i make your p-ssy ass change lanes
this arp gon’ clip your head and rearrange your brain
still the same li rye, ain’t used to have a dollar, b-tch, i won’t never change
i won’t never change up on the gang
riding with mopsticks tryna leave a stain
b-tch, i bought everything you got
stupid ho, you better never complain
and i spent seventy-five thousand on my jewelry, but i ain’t buy the chain
my daddy said, “if you gon’ be a real p, get a pinky ring”
gave that lil’ b-tch half of my perc’, she ate my dang-a-lang
just listen to it, you can hear my chains, ain’t no boojangalang
ain’t gotta throw no salt, the f-ck b-tch, i won’t say a n-gga name
we got army guns, i’m dropping bags just to bring major pain
b-tch, yeah, i’m rich and i’m boring, come and entertain me
just left miami, but when i’m in your city, i still bring it
rod, that’s my heart and he gon’ bang for me
been a real n-gga since birth, won’t never let my brother go and sit in chains for me
i do my time just like a man with my right hand on the bible
looked the judge right in his eyes and still lie on the stand
my mama raised a real n-gga
i ain’t running from n0body, gon’ have to k!ll me where i stand
and if i ever get the chance, i’m whacking you and your lil’ man
so much fire come out the chopper, this lil’ b-tch gave me a tan
i’m tryna ship ‘bows in the mail, but still smell it through the saran
for all my n-ggas in the cell, i spend my last to free the clan
so many n-ggas hate that i’m the man ’cause i came up in this b-tch and took it all
so if i k!ll all your partners and we get on your ass, who you gon’ call?
’cause you know it ain’t they dead ass
pop that bl!ck with your scared ass
when i’m mad, i blackout, when i see an opp, my sh-t get red fast
remember i shed tears cause we had a drop
and couldn’t get ’em, go ask red
they know that i aim for the head
in front of rod, i left a n-gga dead
and lawrence too
they know they big brother quick to hop out and shoot
popping these percocets by the daily, washing it down with you
lately i just been patiently waiting, they let my k!llers loose
i mean, ’til they let my drillers loose
the smoke i’m in so thick, ‘fore he beef with us, k!ll his self with a noose
got real banana clips, this b-tch long as the antlers on a moose
he seen this sh-t get real, now he calling my phone talkin’ ’bout copping deuces
he don’t wanna do it
how you clutching everyday, when sh-t get real you don’t wanna shoot it?
i’m on four percs and three addies, b-tch, you know i’m booted
she too freak, i cut her off, this lil’ ho mad that i won’t f-cking use her
[chorus]
i spent three bands on a fit and never wore that sh-t again
i spent too much up on some sh-t that was too big and gave it to my mans
eleven hundred on a jacket i couldn’t wear
b-tch, you know i’m out that south and i throw fours up in the air
all up in your city

- li rye

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