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letra de lebeau st posse - yung sak runners

[intro]
on foenem
my n-gga wop in here, i gotta say “on foenem,” you hear me?
yes, sir
my n-gga wop in here
lsp, n-gga, lsp the mafia, lsp, yeah, yeah
you hurry the f-ck up?
yeah, keep all that

[verse 1: ysr gramz]
i don’t give a f-ck about who you with or who you hang with
put my n-ggas on your f-ckin’ head, yeah, that’s gang ‘nem
i put my trust in my n-ggas, know they won’t switch
you better put that money up, ’cause when it’s gone, them b-tches dip
i keep fallin’ off, i gotta get a grip
that p90 get to shootin’ like it got a switch
f-ckin’ all these hoes like i ain’t got a b-tch
i spazz on everything ’cause i ain’t got a hit
[verse 2: don perrion]
n-ggas ain’t f-ckin’ with the don, we can bet on it
i’ll rеally tweak the f-ck out like i’m big homiе
park a n-gga whip like we park loads on gabe corner
i was playin’ ’round with bb guns, ain’t play for pop warner
n-gga, free lil joe, he was out here tryna rob somethin’
brother got two years, he comin’ home to some clean money
distro playin’ good, i just took off a sleeve on it
i can’t stop the drank, i done turned to a lean junkie

[verse 3: ysr loski]
f-cked her good off two percs, b-tch got me out my element
head game out this world, ooh, sh-t, it was heaven-sent
i don’t know what jay poured up, he ain’t measure it
have you ever seen a shootout? it get scary quick
how the f-ck i’m racist? pockets full of white presidents
n-gga paid me twice for some ‘bows that was never sent
i seen a n-gga get clipped at the party, i been totin’ since
n-ggas out here bangin’ all type of sh-t, but don’t know they l!ck

[verse 4: ysr dee rich]
7.62 green tips, i got bad b-tches
mad as h-ll leavin’ the club, i blew a bag in it
i’m finna shoot the club up, i seen— in it
glocks kinda stutter when they shoot, it’s somethin’ fast in it
when i pull up to moneris, b-tch, i’m baggin’ it
392 widebody, brodie draggin’ it
i just drunk a four to the face, it was mad hittin’
take a n-gga sack out his hands and play madden with it
[verse 5: ysr gramz]
i got a play for five ‘bows, i’m finna take a cab
you be sneak dissin’ on the ‘net, that sh-t make me laugh
my baby mama trippin’ over hoes, that sh-t make me mad
gettin’ head high as h-ll, almost made me crash

[verse 6: don perrion]
they need to free ralo, he had dogs, the fiends need it
real beecher baby, i made sales all under the bleachers
they don’t know dee rich my lil’ spider, but i call him peter
catch a n-gga lackin’, hawk you down, we gon’ srt him

[verse 7: ysr loski]
broke a b-tch heart and cut into her like, “i didn’t mean it”
put a n-gga on a milk carton, they still ain’t seen him
i can make this money reappear like i got a genie
if you catch me in the walmart, i ain’t schemin’

[verse 8: ysr dee rich]
i just sold a brick to the feds, that’s how you n-ggas sound
cho get on the plane with footb-lls, he’s finna touch down
he tried to pull up actin’ hard and got fapped down
jumped out the whip, he tried to run and i hawked him down

- yung sak runners

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