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yams pt. 2 - triple c's lyrics

[intro: yo gotti]
yo gotti
yeah

[verse 1: yo gotti]
grandma kitchen, cooking yams
same pot she used for the yams
if grandma catch me, it’s going down
grandma go to work, that’s when it’s going down
a hundred pounds over grandma house
pan locked up for [?] house
the first time i tried to stretch the work, [?] paper
man, that sh*t [?] just like some mashed potatos
tried it again
stretched the work and cut [?]
man, i brought it back, solid like a baked potato
i had three keys in the 350 [?]
riding low key, listening to that tripple c’s
that’s like 3000 20 something [?]
all [?] right now, 55 grams
i’m yo gotti, for a kelo i [?]
[?]

[chorus: gunplay]
yam
straight yam
straight yam
yam
straight yam
straight yam
all i got is yam
all i sell is yam
all they want is yam
yam
straight yam
yam
straight yam
straight yam
yam
straight yam
straight yam
all i got is yam
all i sell is yam
all they want is yam
yam
straight yam
[verse 2: rick ross]
i’m sick and tired, of being sick and tired
got sick of trying, of being a stick up guy
started getting mine, with a didgy scale
wasn’t rapping yet, still was getting biggie mail
i cook it fast, but i sell it quicker
got me counting stacks, already on my seventh, n*gga
what you hating for?
ain’t i living your dream?
ain’t i smoking your weed?
ain’t i f*cking your queen?
big [?], won’t exagerate
had [?] by the [?]
calone [?], pool by the beach too
we bought the yams, ’cause somebody got a sweet tooth

[chorus: gunplay]
yam
straight yam
straight yam
yam
straight yam
straight yam
all i got is yam
all i sell is yam
all they want is yam
yam
straight yam
yam
straight yam
straight yam
yam
straight yam
straight yam
all i got is yam
all i sell is yam
all they want is yam
yam
straight yam
[verse 3: gunplay]
[?] black p*ssy, and a big black uzi
b*tch black [?] white cocaine moving
f*ck a state trooper, i’m all in your state trooping
drugged off snooping, can’t find it, looking stupid
straight [?], straight fool
patrone rule
maybach payback, jack money new
no mercy, more murky
take it there, won’t make it fair
cigar fat and hard where, gunplay [?]

[verse 4: torch]
straight yams, big money deals
big business, lil n*gga still riding big wheels
on my jeap
i’m going deep
i get it cheap
it’s going fast
they on my ass
i run the streets
head buster, you don’t wanna tussle
i don’t trust a soul
’cause some [?] run up on me if you want
b*tch, i’m out that gutter
b*tch, i’m out that b*tter
b*tch, i’m out that [?] lay a n*gga on the floor
[verse 5: young breed]
godd*mn, straight yams
deaf jam
custom cars and cycles, [?] we selling in j*pan
tripple c’s, we flipping keys
counting jacks
got a million dollar house, selling prodict in the ‘jects
got yams in the couch, yams on the stove
money in my pocket, ’cause these yams in your nose
yams on the floor, selling yams on the low
she wanna f*ck with tripple c’s, she get her yams on [?]
breed

- triple cs lyrics

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