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letra de 4 gramz to face - ysr gramz

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[intro: ysr gramz]
(oooh, sav k!lled it)
8d

[hook: ysr gramz]
4 grams to the face, n-gga, this a eighthy
we got so many straps, like the f-ckin’ navy
you broke as h-ll, n-gga, you ain’t even wavy
i gotta thank the plug, ’cause the bag saved me
4 grams to the face, n-gga, this a eighthy
we got so many straps, like the f-ckin’ navy
you broke as h-ll, n-gga, you ain’t even wavy
i gotta thank the plug, ’cause the bag saved me

[verse 1: ysr gramz]
you don’t hear me rappin’ with these n-ggas, ’cause they got to pay me
it ain’t runts, but i’ll charge yo $50 for this eighthy
lebeau street slap, down the street from dailey
catch a n-gga slippin’, gta, man, that n-gga wasted
give a n-gga red tips, like a f-ckin’ waitress
i’m gettin’ off with these raps, and these n-ggas hate it
n-ggas shootin’ with their eyes closed, your victim made it
you had a baby while broke, you should’ve waited
told my n-gga, “shoot that lil n-gga”, i’m the instigator
you a fool for cuffin’ her, you a april baby
i’ll sell 30 somethin’ p’s, out my grandma bas-m-nt
if i want what you got, dee rich gon take it

[hook: ysr gramz]
4 grams to the face, n-gga, this a eighthy
we got so many straps, like the f-ckin’ navy
you broke as h-ll, n-gga, you ain’t even wavy
i gotta thank the plug, ’cause the bag saved me
4 grams to the face, n-gga, this a eighthy
we got so many straps, like the f-ckin’ navy
you broke as h-ll, n-gga, you ain’t even wavy
i gotta thank the plug, ’cause the bag saved me

[verse 2: eightball tank]
man, what’s good ysr?
bro just left memphis with them bowls, n-gga, no iheart
beat that b-tch, but i beat, n-gga, no 5 hearts
lil n-gga, you ain’t cut, you ain’t got no stars
told bro, “put a punch on me”, but i ain’t tryna spar
why you got a gun with no opps, n-gga, who your target?
funny how i knock the plug out, i slid in the charger
have my b-tch in your yard sprayin’, no mrs. parker
unc got some puppies for the low, but you won’t hear ’em barkin’
roll up a n-gga, then spark him, guess i just cigar’d him
lil b-tch got some miles on her, but ain’t got no starter
n-gga hit that web and turn though, like peter parker
quavis said he got them bowls in, but he ain’t no entrée
ar-15 shape his ‘fro, but i ain’t no barber
got his ass beat at flint school, so he went to carman
then he got his ass beat there, and went to linden charter
everything i f-ckin’ drop fire, should charged for arson
beam on the .40 goin’ dead, bro, who got a charger?
drop your location or be quiet, i don’t like to argue
got my foot on these n-ggas neck, they some walkin’ carpets
i be by myself all the time, but the glock my partner
talk crazy, i’m comin’ for your dawg, turn him to a carcass
lost all my n-ggas back-to-back, that sh-t made me heartless
lil n-gga better not take it there, or i’ma take it farther

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