a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

letra de gabe gang - ysr gramz & yn jay

[intro: ysr gramz]
yung sak runner sh-t, n-gga, ysr
gabe gang (good lookin’, cali)

[verse 1: ysr gramz & yn jay]
i got a drum and a stick, i’m a marching band
they gave bro two more years, he had contraband
it got a switch and it blow, so i call it fan
you a grown lil’ boy, never had twenty bands
you can’t save everybody, you not superman
my young n-gga lived his whole life like gucci mane
we used to call that n-gga four one, now he the coochie man
i just roulette for ten bands and did the uzi dance (ahh)

[verse 2: yn jay]
n-gga called a ride, hopped out shootin’ out an uber van
n-gga set a play, it didn’t work, he thought he knew the plan
ar with the scope on it, seen him through the peephole
i like all the rich b-tches, you f-ck all the cheap hoes
i like all the thick b-tches, i like all the bad b-tches
glock with a b-tton on it, you ain’t never had switches
you ain’t never came up then f-cked up the bag, n-gga
you ain’t never had no real k!llers on your ass, n-gga

[verse 3: ysr gramz]
friday after next, you heard what happened to the last n-ggas
you better stop playin’ and get a motherf-ckin’ bag, n-gga
i’m really like that, don’t never treat me like no rap n-gga
get a n-gga wrapped like a f-ckin’ chicken wrap, n-gga
they got switches out here, i’ll never scr-p with you
a cap rapper paid me for a feature, i ain’t cap with him
i don’t beat hoes up, but i’ll smack women
my b-tch found out i was cheatin’ and she cracked windows
[verse 4: yn jay]
bm dub, it’s a droptop, it ain’t got no ceilings
bro sell so much dog, he got four kennels
gang hit the road so deep, they got four rentals
n-gga died, he ain’t have no gun, ain’t got no pistol
bro lost his mind in the booth, ain’t got no mental
n-gga said he grew up in the hood, he used to go to bendle

[verse 5: ysr gramz]
bro caught a body, ain’t tell n0body, he a smooth k!ller
broke-ass n-gga ain’t got sh-t, you a shoe stealer
i love a ghetto b-tch from the hood like glorilla
i ain’t have a pops, he was locked, you had a p. miller
you a b-tch and a dude, you bruce jenner
we just dropped a six in a pop, it’s barely juice in it
i really wanna f-ck megan thee stallion, give me two minutes
a n-gga touch my chain, it’s gon’ be two k!llings

[verse 6: yn jay]
new jewelry hittin’ like lightning, they think zeus did it
i don’t need no cap to spin my whip, i got the coupe spinning
i left all my hoes in the past, i need some new b-tches
i’m still ridin’ in an old school with the roochie spinning
hit his car with so many shots, he need a new transmission
i can tell he ain’t got no aim ’cause when he shoot, he missing
n-gga locked, no hope for gettin’ out unless he shoot the witness
(why the f-ck y’all send that crash dummy on that stupid mission?)

- ysr gramz yn jay

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS