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letra de alpo - ysr gramz

[intro: ysr gramz]
i don’t give a f-ck, my n-ggas slimy
i don’t give a f-ck, you n-ggas grimy
like an id (ooh, sav k!lled it)

[chorus: ysr gramz]
i can’t trust sh-t, these n-ggas grimy
i don’t give a f-ck, my n-ggas slimy
we put ’em in a box like an id
you can’t tryst these hoes ’cause they trifling
your boyfriend broke, i can’t be like him
when them n-ggas see us comin’, they don’t like them
them n-ggas know we got the sauce, them n-ggas bitin’
i can see me gettin’ rich, i’m a psychic
[verse 1: ysr gramz]
you ain’t got no money, you can’t buy sh-t
that money turn ’em on like a light switch
i’m tryna find a plug, i need a wide b-tch
man, i’m tryna find a plug, i’m tryna buy sh-t
my n-gga stay down with me, i’ma ice his neck
where the plug with them ‘bows? i’m tryna spend a check
je said the road green like that n-gga shrek
i got a play in gb, he meet me on the west
when a n-gga fell off, ain’t n0body catch me
i’m like jordan in ’91, can’t n0body check me
seem like the n-ggas closest to you try to catch you slippin’
my young dog sixteen and got a smith & wesson
everywhere a n-gga go, i gotta keep my weapon
n-ggas speakin’ on the dead, them n-ggas disrespectful
n-gga finesse you for them ‘bows, he done took your blessing
don’t show these n-ggas sh-t, you gotta keep ’em guessing

[chorus: ysr gramz]
i can’t trust sh-t, these n-ggas grimy
i don’t give a f-ck, my n-ggas slimy
we put ’em in a box like an id
you can’t tryst these hoes ’cause they trifling
your boyfriend broke, i can’t be like him
when them n-ggas see us comin’, they don’t like them
them n-ggas know we got the sauce, them n-ggas bitin’
i can see me gettin’ rich, i’m a psychic
[verse 2: don perrion]
these handicap broke n-ggas need a fix-up
some bad b-tches got bad breath, no, we can’t hook up
dusty had all the phones, feel like got the hook-up
the l really slap, i don’t say that for nothin’
i ain’t took no trip yet, n-gga, i been hustlin’
pray we make it out the h-llhole ’cause the streets muddy
i had to stop the lean, i had a weak stomach
me and my b-tch had split apart ’cause she was creepin’ on me
i dropped that off my mind and they stopped sleepin’ on me
karma realer than a b-tch, i feel it peekin’ on me
the whole time i was up, i was still money-hungry
p a bad motherf-cker when that sh-t on him
i’ll go ghost and pop back out like rich homie
no, you not my slime if you not my daughter or my homie
no, you cannot get no f-ckin’ feat if you ain’t got no money
wish i can give y’all sh-t back, the lord know i’m lyin’
man, i can’t even lie, i really miss robbin’
i’m the only bull in michigan like dennis rodman
lil’ wh0re threw me a towel when she got done moppin’
when i was f-ckin’ on shorty, i swear we was the topic

- ysr gramz

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