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letra de work - ybs skola

[intro: q da fool]
uh
ayy skola, what’s up, bruh?
they ain’t never wanna see n-ggas like us get rich, haha
yung lan on the track
trauma tone
nah for real

[chorus: q da fool]
my chopper got range, like a rover
i stay surrounded by soldiers
my diamonds they shinin’, they blind ’em
i been had a bag before rhymin’
pull up in the hood with the work
my bricks perfect, y’all still sellin’ dirt
plug got robbed for the work
put a b-tch on his line, she gon’ tell him it’s only work, uh
all that hatin’, it don’t work
i feel like the streets left me cursed
this rap sh-t don’t work
then i’m back to sellin’ work
give her good d-ck, make her squirt
that’s how a n-gga know the p-ssy work, uh
put a b-tch n-gga on a shirt
all my n-ggas put in that work

[verse 1: ybs skola]
since heather jean died, i don’t trust sh-t
i keep the glock-19, i’ll bust it
i got booked by a rook when i walked in a store
swear i wish that i tucked it
had to cut your -ss off ’cause i know he a ho
and he be on that f-ck sh-t
he was never with me posted up in that store
when i was slidin’ that bucket
when scoota died, yeah, i was hurt
and i still can’t believe that my dawg in the dirt (up next)
feel like i know him since kids
i’ll never forget all the sh-t that we did (my n-gga)
him and truz both died broad daylight
and that’s one of the main reasons i stay right
in the studio, me and q da fool
when i travel, i go with that tool
get caught lackin’ and i’d be a fool
i was trappin’ when you was in school
hit the club with a gun in my shoe
think i’m sweet then i’m punishin’ you
rap sh-t better work or it’s back to the work
i know chaps that stay right
i gotta hold that chopper with two f-ckin’ hands
to make sure that spray right

[verse 2: q da fool]
i gotta watch my back, n-ggas spies
once i call in a hit i’m for sure that you dyin’
n-ggas fold when i blitz, bullets go through his spine
hit the mall with your b-tch, i gave her d-ck, left her cryin’
i’m in the club with the stick
my lil’ n-ggas geekin’ so i wouldn’t try it
spend a lil’ bag for this ‘fit
where the f-ck is the cameras? you know i ain’t shy
i got them bricks, you can buy
i’m really one-on-one with the supply
you the man in the middle, can you step aside?
i’m with skola, we frozen, we freezin’ your eyes
if it ain’t ’bout money, can’t talk to you people
i’m draped in gucci, my shooter wear dior
if it ain’t about money, you know i can’t hear you
you broke with no hope, i wouldn’t want to be you
ar with a scope, i’m smilin’ when you bleedin’
a trap and a k!ller, b-tch, that make a g*nius
grew up with no feelings, love, i never seen it
they say they care, but them b-tches never really mean it
you soft as a bag, get a gun, i bet you never squeeze it, d-mn
streets not fair, leave you in a cell, thinkin’
don’t do it for clout, my n-ggas spin a bend for reasons

- ybs skola

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