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letra de we are not rappers - ysr gramz

we are not rappers lyrics
[intro]
rlsg
it’s wit’ a k dumbass
gang
i got so much enrgy

[verse 1: rlsg kd]
my phone ring, yo’ sh-t broke like the screen cracked
i’ll be a lie if i said ion sell crack
i’ll be a lie if i said i’m moving out the trap
i’ll be a lie if i said i sold every strap
my fiend ah die if he got this walk pack
bring ’em back alive, with this narcan doctor pack
hope he never try to rob me, cause i live for that
fry up ’round the crib where he living where his children at

[verse 2: krispylife kidd]
got a lift had no cheese, i’ll rob the uber
you’ll fold like a wallet, boy you ain’t no shooter
you let n-ggas search yo cash
you ain’t no bag mover
hit yo’ crib 4 times in a week now you a sad mover
yo’ b-tch greet me wit’ head, ain’t no “how you doing”
bro got carpel tunnel tryna keep up wit’ martha stewart
broke a pyrex, cause bro let the stall do it
he off lean and percs, so i know why he keep snoozing
[verse 3: ysr gramz]
i’m finna scratch down they block just to make them hate
i’ll put my gun down, and hit you in yo’ face
ion even trust my stepdad, cause he a snake
dawg tryna spend a hunnid, i’m ’bout to make him wait
he was finna call somebody else cause i came too late
you’ll think i’m a make up artist, i’ll paint yo’ face
riding round wit’ rlsg kd, i gotta play on race
this n-gga kidd got a knife, this n-gga think he blade

[verse 4: krispylife kidd]
n-ggas like college boys, don’t wanna catch this fade
i’m tripping almost dmted a stripper on stage
i ain’t like the song that they played
[?]

[verse 5: rlsg kd]
shooting dice in somebody trap, i just dodged a raid
my lil cousin young as h-ll, he got a micro drac’
just finessed my uncle lil cousin for a piece of cake
f-ck a money counter, gotta count it b-tch i need a rake
f-ck a b-tch for $40, ion go on dates
then take it back, like it was my mistake
shootout on the north side, the n-gga tried to short a eighth
shot a n-gga while he tried to duck and hit him in his face
tap in wit’ fmb rambo if you bank wit’ chase
ian want the head out yo’ b-tch, cause ha breath was stank
g-ngb-nging wit’ my [?] n-ggas, flag in yo face
yo’ daddy was a coke head, residue on yall plates
[verse 6: krispylife kidd]
i tore my acl tryna hustle to this play
bro got a dog ass plug [?]
take a n-gga towel tryna f-ck her in a fish tank
pour a deuce in a juice, tell me how this brisk taste

- ysr gramz

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