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drunk & confused freestyle - js x yd lyrics

[intro: js]
ay, turn man up
tobi, play me something
grrr, bow

[verse 1: js]
i just bill up a spliff then rass it
rahted, rahted
no one’s real, all these n*ggas half*hearted
bro rid one or two g’s in the streets
when it really gets peak when they know who’s departing (p*ssies)
they all dash when the mash get clarted
on who? little n*gga, you’re r*t*rded (on who?)
packs come smelly like someone just farted
bill in the trap, putting grub on the scales (bruck it)
breaking my neck in the back seat
i move antsy when they’re on my tail
‘cah no way man’s tryna go jail (no way)
never knew i woulda flipped this one ’til i seen myself whip it up in wales (kway up)
only time will tell, that’s me and yd tryna raise up h*ll
young n*gga flyin’ them streets on a pushbike (flyin’)
bad one wanna talk ’bout relationships
f*ck that, b*tch what do i look like?
talk on my batch, little n*gga get juked twice (ay, juke him)
no jordans but your brodie took flight
i can never tolerate verbal, they do hurdles when they see mans hood tied
they do anything for the clout (jokers)
b*tch, i don’t want no love and i don’t wanna f*ck, just use that mouth (slop it)
got a call for a two one one, don’t say no more, bill a zoot then bounce
push it in and pull it back out like it’s getting declined
if you love your life, best back your knife and not run your mouth (ay, shut up)
15 inch on my trousers
man pull up and swing this ying or back the bruck*back, that’s a shotgun shower (bu*bu)
i got tommy and ghost, no power
shotty come long like the eiffel tower
chop that down, now it’s short like likkleman (chop it)
pull up on strips, try ching a man
fling it at hats, jump out, try bill a man
late nights tagging up in the bando
bro*bro just called off the zanco
only a matter of time ’til he’s back home (free bro)
me and yd, backstreets, two rambos
touch him, you’ll hold steel in your backbone
more than p*ssed if they boom this bando (p*ssed)
jump out gang with this anglo
jump out gang, swing that at your mangos (ying dat)
[interlude: yd]
now, lemme tell something you should know (lemme tell you)
i’m kind of tapped in my head, i get dark thoughts that i can’t control (demons)
and this girl told me that she loved me
if you loved me, you woulda held this pole (hold that)
and ‘nough man just move like gyal, clowns
wanna beef me over worthless hoes (p*ssies)

[verse 2: yd]
and this girl wanna talk ’bout birking, get to glurping and then get sent home (uck)
like cardi my trapline’s twerking
and it’s curtains if i back this smoke (ah)
bro, are you gonna back your bro?
f*ck the talking, but man get smoked
and it don’t make sense (no, it don’t)
bare man act for the snap, at the end of the month can’t pay their rent (broke boy)
slow down, tell brodie “reverse”
wet your t*shirt then cut from feds (ying dat)
and don’t be that guy like humpty
didn’t just drop, he got shot off the fence (bu*bu)
crept up on a boy then ‘napped him (tekked the boy)
slapped him, crease the wap and then packed him
deliver that corn like amazon package (bow)
63 bags, man’s brucked and bagged it (bruck it)

[verse 3: js]
stuck up in traps tryna finish this pack and i ain’t going home ’til the whole pack’s done (’til it’s done)
wap in a jd bag, still run up in trap so i can see these funds
still out ‘ere cutting from jakes, no breaks, ten toes, can’t stop, are you dumb? (you’re buzzin’)
man’s feeling numb, can’t run no more, i got smoker’s lungs (can’t breathe)
two shanks up on the strip, don’t panic
and i swear if he weren’t that fast then i would caught up and done me a mad ting
back my fl!ck knife, fl!ck that then stab him (ay, wet that)
who’s that? what’s that? jump out, grab him
c*ck it, lean back, you know broski’s tappin’
real life, i ain’t into that rampin’
back the handting, lean out and slap it
truesay you caught man on a lack, he backed his shank and he still got beat up (p*ssy)
truesay your gyal tek man for eediat
run up in traps, back waps and teef that (ay)
bro hop out the ride, try beat that
heartbeat stops when i see tsg vans
if i ain’t got my knife, then i swear on my life i’ll fist and kickin’ out kneecaps
[verse 4: yd]
out the whip, man beat it (boy)
moonwalk on the opp block, back the dot*dot
slap that, watch your boy stop breathing
in the hospital bed he’s leakin’
on the 125 man’s skeeting (cuttin’)
this bad b wanna talk ’bout love, i don’t know love, man’s jeet and skeeting (b*tch, move)
all my brodies eating
in the trap man distribute packs to the cats, so you might as well call this felix (dishin’)
and i said we should go on a glide, js had a mutual feelin’ (did)
didn’t come back ’til about 4, we left ’bout five of the opp boys leaking (dashin’)
six bells jammed in a blotty
big boy corn, make sure that he eats it (d*mn it)
got a b*tch shop*calling from lester
i told michael “hit the a3 quickly”
yd, you can call me shifty
you don’t know ’bout the drills that i’ve done (done)
but the black yutes i’ve bored with fl!ckys (di*di*dip)
don’t trip up, drop and get poked
’cause things might end up sticky
but lemme back my bro
any opp man sight, man catch man
ying that down ’til a man touch bones (ying dat)
and these p*ssies love give me verbal
crocodile t**th just buss mans dome (bow)
and man pop corn at your afro, they shoulda woulda coulda just slid with their pole (eurgh)
go poke man up in the bando
kick off the door and take mans cro (boom)
[verse 5: js]
t*house tryna bruck this slab
and i don’t know nuttin’ ’bout lackin’
run up on me, get your head back whacked (boy)
i ain’t really into that verbal
pull up ’round there, let the wu*du*dum clap
you ain’t really made for the trap
little n*gga speak facts, no need for the cap (cappin’)
and when i wave my wand in the air best dash or i’m pushing that in with force (push it)
rob just called for a fix, asked if it’s tt and i said “of course” (of course)
js don’t feel no remorse
pop them doors, tryna spill some sauce
and if you wanna test man’s temper
di*di*di*dip, you’re outlined in chalk (mm)

- js x yd lyrics

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