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chronic - y83 zeek lyrics

first verse [y83 zeek]

b*tch, don’t get spanked b*tch
[uh] 12 tryna paint us a picture i’m geeking to spin them n*ggas hiding [uh]

them n*ggas loud they posting ‘bout rec i ain’t think they love the attention [uh]
busting a p them i’m back on they strip, real n*ggas keeping it silent [uh]
shawty got ass and i wanna f*ck, i’m tryna run up the mileage [uh]
you say you real i know you not, i gotta whole lotta crack in the spot
he tried to creep then he drop he got tagged by a whole lotta dots
war time sh*t i got the drop n*ggas ain’t knowing i’m in back of they spot
thought he was safe then he got caught, he should’ve had never had cut off his box
joe ass n*gga try be in the mix, sh*t too sad got he hit with his b*tch
i’m in the line, the mix of this sh*t she know she next to get on this d*ck. f*cking her raw i thought she was bougie [d*mn] she getting lit on the d*ck
when i walk on the spot, you know how i’m coming young n*gga putting d*ck in that b*tch. i’m tryna f*ck from the back & act brazy she want a kid so i hit her tom brady [uh, uh]. we having a baby, d*mn this lifestyle getting too crazy i thought that b*tch was the one but she played me now i’m just running it up on a daily

they see my music an know they wan’ play me, hating ass n*gga go get you some [?] when i get in my jam a n*gga gon stop me, them foster’s is chop em, you got some perks them i’m tryna cop em. he talking tuff he gon need him a doctor

where is ya mans, he got shot from a block up. i got that sh*t that you n*ggas gon lock up
gave em the g [man] now she doing pop ups
[uh, uh, uh, uhh] running this sh*t you know how we coming. she tried to move i told her i’m coming
i get that sh*t man, it came in from london. where is you going, boy why is you running
stomp on a n*gga i don’t care where he at, where is his face he got placed on the map he was too tuff til he ending like that and you wouldn’t believe where the n*gga was at !

second verse [mizzy]
n*ggas on facebook be thinking they hard, catch em in traffic we stopping his car. get hit with this [?] sent to the stars. bullets got [?] [?] glock hold a 33 i ain’t tryna tussle, selling them pacs an selling the bundles me & bro coming for you double trouble serving all night i might serve to your uncle

if i tell you i love you, that mean that i love you
hop out the cut an get hit with the glizzy, i’m in the trap with glizzies an fifty’s
i’m on the black box cooling wit’ drizzy i’m from rubeville we get busy spin on they block cause i know that they miss me f*ck from the back an i play with her kidneys

i’m sliding on n*ggas i’m sliding wit’ tone if he holding them p’s we gon run in his home you get hit wit’ these bullets you gone. bullets they hit at your dome glock 23 and it came 2 tone
long live the g’z rather talk on the phone. i can turn a op to a ghost, you can get burnt like some toast, b*tches be doin’ the most
big ass bullets sick of big boats
i got the fifty it’s tucked in the coat

glock 17 i shoot like a pro, bullets like clippers they take off his fro. freaky li’b*tch tryna curl up my toes. we catch a opp in the field we gon blow i’m in the cut in the field like a crow

he tried to run got hit in his throat

- y83 zeek lyrics

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