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letra de beecher mafia - ysr gramz & yn jay

beecher mafia lyrics
[intro]
(313 mafia)
[?] not gunna lie, this beat hard

[verse 1]
if its smoke in the air we can’t talk about it
n-gga drivin’ crazy in the skat, he got took up out it
juss’ cuz you got a gun on you, you won’t shoot n0body
he got a big ass grenade, he finna blew somebody
oops, i mean blow somebody
n-gga you prolly owe somebody, forty thousand dollars in his pocket, he don’t own no wallet
b-tch i barely went to school, n-gga m-th- f-ck a college
cuttin’ n-ggas off on my side, they can’t keep it solid
you ain’t real, you ain’t slidin’ with your guys
hit the gas, hone, nd’ make that b-tch come alive
h-ll yhea i bang b’s nd’ my n-ggas doin’ five
you ain’t even gotta ask me, h-ll yhea imma ride
imma slide on that n-gga, why you liеd on yo n-ggas
cut that n-gga off, he testified on his n-ggas
show mе three hundred somethin’ k, d-mn there cried for my n-ggas
jump out with that k, like surprise young n-ggaaah
i remember i was broke, i d-mn near cried to my n-gga
ridin’ around on hot wheel, im finna ride with my n-gga
close ranged headshot, you see the fire in the n-gga
r.i.p my n-gga [?], feel like i died with my n-gga
oh you was my n-gga [?], you did time with my n-gga
kidnapped boy, i throw you in the trunk, i drive with a n-gga
dog hidin’ in the crib, i finna slide on his n-ggas
big ass gun got me walkin’ crazy
flawless grill in my mouth, got me talkin’ crazy
big ass hole on my barrel, got it sparkin’ crazy
i ain’t feed my pit bull in days, got it barkin’ crazy
make pam get the f-ck out, they say martin crazy
oh you must don’t got apple music, i be chartin’ crazy
first one at the finish line, but i be startin’ lazy
i juss’ pulled up in a big body, got me- ahhh
i juss’ pulled up in a big body got me parkin’ crazy
you ain’t made no money all year, you been starvin’ lately
oh you had a car, you must’ve lost it, you’ve been walkin’ lately
you been driinkin’ all that bullsh-t lean, got you fartin’ crazy
yhea everywhere i go, i be servin’ fiends, i be servin’ crazy
the way i [?] grams, got the bowls, you be rollin’ [?]
bro walkin’ with the mic grown like he strollin’ babies
gotta hundred somethin’ [?], well i prolly even served your auntie
like a pair of trick dice, n-gga i do you janky
f-cked around nd’ almost shot my brother cuz he tried to prank me
i juss’ had to beat my fiend ass cuz he tried to gank me
i’m in that gxp goin’ fast, man who tryin’ race me?
i gotta play for two bands, is you finna take me?
i’m on the east side, [?], me at daily
i juss’ got into it with my b-tch, bout to replay[?]
let this k off, it gon’ sound like ten m80’s
i’ll send yo ass to the devil like a free nation
dearest pop out with that mask, you think you seen jason
[?] on the [?], im a play maker
hittin’ cali then oregon, imma risk taker

- ysr gramz yn jay

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