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letra de bar 4 bar - yn records & yn jay

[intro: grindhard e]
yeah, alright
yeah
jay, this what we doin’?

[verse 1: grindhard e & yn jay]
[?] so sticky on my hands, it feel like tree sap
i’m in the woods posted with a stick like a tree branch
just jumped in the water, you just now gettin’ your feet wet
water on my neck blind a b-tch, made her seasick
five percent tint around the whip, you can’t see sh-t
they told me if i didn’t go to school, i wouldn’t be sh-t
did some bullsh-t and prayed to god, i had to repent
they said coochie, he the part two, i dropped a remix
you ain’t smokin’ exotic weed, why you smokin’ all that cheap sh-t?
free je, free ree, free drich

[verse 2: ysr gramz, krispylife kidd & yn jay]
if i fall off off of rap, i’ma hit a l!ck
fancy n-gga dressed the noodles up with a beef stick
we finna box the opps in like a deep-dish
i ain’t stalkin’, but i’m outside the window on some creep sh-t
my right hand mike tyson, bro, i sleep sh-t
got the b-tch p-ssy goin’— on some queef sh-t
i don’t f-ck with weird-ass rapper, you on meek sh-t
i’ma cut him with testers, i’m a fiend chaser
blew that n-gga brains in the air, i’m a dream chaser
spread a n-gga whole pile with turfs, i’m a weed maker
i cut a n-gga lean with a machete, i’m a lean maker
pulled up with that boom bing (d-mn), bing banger (alright)
[verse 3: yn jay & grindhard e]
i took my pants to mrs. kera, she a jean maker
b-tch sellin’ p-ssy, they think we made her
pass a b-tch to the whole squad, she a team player
i caught a blunt, smokin’ on hibachi mixed with three flavors
burned a n-gga body to the ashes, i’m finna cremate him
almost k!lled a n-gga playin’ both sides, but i didn’t ’cause he a [?] maker
build a b-tch up, break her down, start over, then remake her
n-ggas askin’ ’bout spice talkin’, i’m the creator

[verse 4: ysr gramz & krispylife kidd]
n-gga try to run from the drac’, i shot all ankles
beat my b-tch ass in the closet here with all hangers
bro said he gon’ catch a body when he get off papers
young n-gga took his whole advance, bought all bangers
i just hit this b-tch on cam’ from all angles
feel like john wick with the bl!ck, shot from all angles
i feel like john cena, i’m wearin’ jean shorts
nasty n-gga, serve a gram, then make the fiend squirt
i just drunk a whole six, i gotta lean burp
tryna celebrate the win, i threw up my team perks

- yn records yn jay

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