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letra de come outside - ybf k sauce

[hook]
made it out the trenches, got no option
b-tch i had to
on that paper chase, i ran it up
you know that’s past due
you know we got glocks, we got 9s
we got macs too
pop out at lil’ brodie crib
show ’em what that mac do
drop my addy in that live
them n-ggas still ain’t slide ’bout it
told him if he shootin’ ’bout that b-tch
then he gon’ die ’bout it
we don’t give no f-ck bout that talkin’
come outside ’bout it
ridin’ wit them heaters, tryna get a n-gga fried ’bout it

[verse]
we got choppas wit them clips, thas how we ridin’ n-gga
gon’ and give yo mama back them sticks if you ain’t slidin’ n-gga
he told me he gon’ pop me when he see me, why u lyin’ n-gga
all that flexin’ for thesе hoes why these p-ssy n-ggas dyin’ n-gga
thеy know imma pop my sh-t, and these hoes, they can’t get up off my d-ck
they know imma slang that stick, a f-ck n-gga think he talkin’ sl!ck
they know i `came straight out the bottom, i’m chasin’ that guala ’til i’m gettin’ rich
they kno i’ll shoot him and his potna, if he got a problem, i’m f-ckin’ his b-tch
before the pandemic, my n-ggas was still masked up, goin’ on hits
before the pandemic, my n-gga still had gloves on, loadin’ up bl!cks
they all on the net wit’ sh-t, these b-tch n-ggas tryna get on a list
i knew i would make it, ain’t know i could rap, i just started takin’ risks
[hook]
made it out the trenches, got no option
b-tch i had to
on that paper chase, i ran it up
you know that’s past due
you know we got glocks, we got 9s
we got macs too
pop out at lil’ brodie crib
show ’em what that mac do
drop my addy in that live
them n-ggas still ain’t slide ’bout it
told him if he shootin’ ’bout that b-tch
then he gon’ die ’bout it
we don’t give no f-ck bout that talkin’
come outside ’bout it
ridin’ wit them heaters, tryna get a n-gga fried ’bout it

[verse]
these lil’ n-ggas p-ssy they be on ig live ’bout it
i ain’t wit the cappin’ sh-t
and i ain’t wit’ the trappin’ b-tch
but i still make bread off all of my songs
even if it’s half a l!ck
that glock got a beam
he couldn’t survive it if i asked to miss
head shot
red dot
i call all my n-ggas deadshot
they hittin’ dreadlocks
n-ggas say i ain’t hardest
them lil’ n-ggas fanned out
they like “sauce, how many hits you got?”
i’m thinkin’ 10 now
nah i’m thinkin’ 20 now
all them hoes was dissin’ on me
they tryna get wit’ me now
all them exes that said f-ck me tryna say they miss me now
i’m like f-ck it, you ain’t f-ck wit’ me when i ain’t have sh-t
don’t be tryna double back soon as i got a bag b-tch
[hook]
made it out the trenches, got no option
b-tch i had to
on that paper chase, i ran it up
you know that’s past due
you know we got glocks, we got 9s
we got macs too
pop out at lil’ brodie crib
show ’em what that mac do
drop my addy in that live
them n-ggas still ain’t slide ’bout it
told him if he shootin’ ’bout that b-tch
then he gon’ die ’bout it
we don’t give no f-ck bout that talkin’
come outside ’bout it
ridin’ wit them heaters, tryna get a n-gga fried ’bout it

- ybf k sauce

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