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letra de fuck you talkin’ bout - young savage kane

[intro]
(yeah, yeah, b-tch! f-ck you talkin’ bout?!)
(grrah, grrah! boom!)
ayy, savage kane in this b-tch (huh, yeah, f-ck ‘em!)
i told that ho eat d-ck, f-ck she think this is (slatt! slatt!)
bang, bang!

[chorus]
b-tch, i’m good now (f-ck you!), told that sl-t to leave me ‘lone (grrah, grrah!)
posted with my glock now, p-ssy opps ain’t comin’ home (boom, boom, boom!)
we spin sh-t, we air sh-t out, every time we get it on (yeah, b-tch!)
ain’t no motherf-ckin’ love, we can’t find him, we smoke his bros (f-ck his bros, b-tch!)
and don’t bring them fake-ass n-ggas ‘round (nah, nah, nah!)
they jealous ‘cause i made it out (f-ck them clowns!)
watch who you standin’ with, ‘cause it be them ones that gun you down (grrah, grrah!)
hopped out the pen, straight to a trackhawk, let thе city hear that sound (skrrt, skrrt, grrah!)

[verse]
i got homies stuck in the fеds, wish they see me at rolling loud (f-ck the feds!)
this sh-t ain’t no fairy tale, real opps dyin’, we sprayin’ rounds (boom, boom, boom!)
my brother bled on the pavement, f-ck his plans, they laid him down (f-ck ‘em!)
i was told don’t show no hand, lil’ shooter quick to clear the crowd (grrah, grrah, b-tch!)
seen bodies drop, youngin’ grew up twisted (f-ck life!)
k!ller with no feelings, he gon’ shoot, don’t give a sh-t (bah, bah, bah!)
that’s the life of savage, that’s the life of kane (yeah, ho!)
he gon’ let that chopper sing, don’t even know them names (f-ck a name, grrah!)
now i’m high as f-ck, hidin’ pain off these percs (pop a perc, b-tch!)
feelin’ like i’m losin’ it, this sh-t only gettin’ worse (f-ck!)
i ain’t never been the type to quit, thugs don’t fold, we curse (never!)
somebody better hug me ‘fore i put ‘em in a he-rs- (grrah, grrah, b-tch!)
she said she need kane in her life, ‘cause savage don’t show no love (f-ck love!)
my heart still stuck in the dark, ain’t no one good enough (nah, nah, nah!)
so i’m ridin’ with this k, and a thirty stick stuffed (grrah, grrah, grrah!)
if i catch him lackin’, swear to god, we light him up (bah, bah, bah, b-tch!)
[chorus]
b-tch, i’m good now, told that sl-t to leave me ‘lone (f-ck out my phone!)
posted with my glock now, p-ssy opps ain’t comin’ home (boom, boom, boom, b-tch!)
we spin sh-t, we air sh-t out, every time we get it on (skrrt, skrrt, bah!)
ain’t no motherf-ckin’ love, we can’t find him, we smoke his bros (f-ck his bros!)
and don’t bring them fake-ass n-ggas ‘round, they jealous ‘cause i made it out (made it out, b-tch!)
watch who you standin’ with, ‘cause it be them ones that gun you down (grrah, grrah, grrah!)
hopped out the pen, straight to a trackhawk, let the city hear that sound (vroom, vroom, grrah, boom!)

[outro]
(f-ck you talkin’ bout?!)
all my n-ggas in the system, they gon’ see me on that stage (f-ck the feds!)
till then we ridin’ dirty, mask on, .40 on my waist (grrah, grrah!)
(yeah, kane season, b-tch!)
(long live my brothers!)
(grrah! boom! boom! boom!)

- young savage kane

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