a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

don't condone - symba (us) lyrics

[intro]
yeah, r.i.p. to my n*gga lil yase
(triangle park)
(god d*mn, caston)
look

[verse]
it’s been a long time comin’, been at it since b and stunna (yeah)
i went to war with uno back when the pack was bustin’ (facts)
fab drove the yellow bus to antioch
back when i was throwin’ parties off g street at sixteen
back before me and kiana became a thing
we was sellin’ hard bars, g baby, keanu reeves
livin’ out my means, addicted to finer things
designer dreams, but still take b*tches to fire wings
i always knew my past circumstances would betray me (yeah)
that’s how i was rappin’ and was movin’ like i made it (yeah)
i ain’t had no money, just a pocket full of patience
i ain’t had no plan, i just knew that i could make it (come on)
big sh*t, twenty got my wrist lit
still ain’t met a b*tch with good head that got her lips did
i’ma get her lifted, hit, then get a lyft sent
she won’t get a zelle, cashapp, or a gift sent
she could tell i get to the money, she got a sixth sense
i went on the leakers in buffs, i feel like trick trick
n*ggas slept on me like i wasn’t a legit l!ck
lebron told the world i was next, i been the sh*t since
countin’ up this paper, i been feelin’ like the number boy (yeah)
tell craig calman to crown me, yeah, i’m the coverboy
honestly, i ain’t really worried ’bout you other boys
only n*gga i feel f*ckin’ with me is loverboy
k dot and cole, jay rock and hov
ladies love me long time like 2pac’s soul
n*ggas get some views and a chain and think they on
wavin’ guns in the video just to get k!lled at home
and your homeboy runnin’ through your crib because you gone (huh)
and your baby mama f*ckin’ this n*gga ’cause she alone (yeah)
she got pictures with him and your son in her phone (f*ck)
man, and he don’t even treat him like his own (treat him like his own)
man, even the homies know he wrong (wrong)
they don’t do sh*t but rap about it in songs
talk a good game, but never follow your own
n*ggas love doin’ the sh*t that they don’t condone (real sh*t)
[outro]
i mean, y’all n*ggas gotta catch up
this sh*t gettin’ out of hand
one week they sayin’, “oh, he don’t rap like a bay n*gga, he don’t sound like a bay n*gga”
but a bay n*gga out*rappin’ the whole game right now, what’s happenin’?
don’t run from rap, n*gga

- symba us lyrics

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular