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shit (megamix) - yamine lyrics

[hook: future]
talking ’bout you popping tags, n-gg- you ain’t bought sh-t
talking bout a hunned bottles, n-gg- you ain’t popped sh-t
all you talk nana clips, n-gg- you ain’t shot sh-t
spending money on these hoes, n-gg- you ain’t f-ck sh-t

[verse 1: drake]
took n-gg-s out the hood like i’m from there
so you know it’s all good when i come there
i hear you talk about your city like you run that
and i brought my tour to your city, you my son there n-gg-
but i had to come through for the remix
on my haven’t done a verse in 8 weeks sh-t
and if a n-gg- say my name, he the hot sh-t
but if i say the n-gg- name, he still the hot sh-t
f-cked up, lucky i don’t feed into the gossip
n-gg-s act like they don’t know, but they should know
yeah, i just think it’s funny how they dangling the bait
but i’m the one that’s k!lling n-gg-s on the hooks though
and n-gg-s ain’t got a grill, still ice grill hating
i know y’all already know mike will made it
just looking at the numbers, n-gg-, i feel amazing
i call michael jordan up and mike will make it
i’m the young rap n-gg- with the ‘melo deal
you need to come to ovo for a better deal
just know a million ain’t sh-t once you get a mill
and n-gg-s say it’s all good, that’s how you better feel
n-gg- nah, f-ck that, this year i’m talking big stuff
rolling through the city like a young n-gg- bricked up
f-ck n-gg-s gon’ be f-ck n-gg-s
that’s why we never give a f-ck when a f-ck n-gg- switched up

[verse 2: juicy j]
if money talk then your pockets ain’t saying sh-t
i’m in the bathroom getting head from your b-tch
and i ain’t paying her sh-t
you want beef? you don’t know who you playing with
i tell my pilot to land the jet
i’m hopping off, get ’em, we popping off
give a click and you n-gg-s dead where you standing at
i’m just a trippy n-gg- smoking on cabbage
your money funny like jim carrey
i got b-tches that’s super bad like halle
and we still keeping that white like barry
i’m a rich n-gg-, still keep a pistol with me
n-gg- you ain’t f-ckin’ with a picture of me
i got all this cake and shooters with me
just in case you p-ssy n-gg-s try to get you a piece
what it is, my n-gg-? what it’s h-ttin’ for?
where the car you were whippin’ in the video?
where is the ice at n-gg-? where them pretty hoes?
you a fraud, real n-gg-s already know
broke -ss n-gg-s, i can’t stand ’em
i hit ’em with the cannon
i’m buying off the mall at random
juicy j, that n-gg- fresh to death
smoke it till it’s nothing left
peel off then i’m ghost in my phantom

[verse 3: yamine]
let me change this up real fast
hurry up
uh huh
let’s get it
future do you mind?
ok
look at yamine i’m poppin sh-t
i’ve been and outta remixes
starting sh-t
my raps are cold
me and juicy j bold
while my cousin drake is wearing all gold
yes i know
cuz i follow the lord
you listen to the law
forget usian bolt
you know your boy yamine is a boss
i’m more boss then rick ross
my homie t.i. all goes floss
his teeth was f-cked up
i think i’m false
but young jeezy came up in the verse with the cost
all freestyle here no lyrics
i look like i’m writing
but the deal is…
i love g’s and they know that
you haters ain’t sh-t like kodak
i’m at the top of the game like 21 savage
forget this cr-p yo mommas an addict
i don’t give a d-mn, i’m going through the attic
i’m just like chris brown when i’m going right at it

[hook: future]
talkin’ bout ya poppin’ tags, n-gg-, you ain’t bought sh-t
talkin’ bout 100 bottles, n-gg-, you ain’t pop sh-t
all you talk nana clips, n-gg-, you ain’t shot sh-t
spendin’ money on these hoes, n-gg-, you ain’t f-ck sh-t
sh-t, sh-t

[verse 4: pastor troy]
y’all ain’t crunk like me, y’all ain’t bout sh-t
ak-47 and that ruger and some other sh-t
pt cruiser, n-gg-, do a n-gg-, who the n-gg-?
i’m so ratchet with that plastic
sh-t get drastic, leave him in the casket
now my n-gg- mike will giving me a chill pill
but a n-gg- crunk still, plenty n-gg-s got k!lled
i don’t give a f-ck though, still got some ammo
dressed in camo, represent atlanta, ho
pastor disaster back like the rapture
don’t let me catch ya, ho, i’m coming at ya
bap on my shoulder, pocket full of doja
keep my composure, f-ck pulling over
brrrrr, stick ’em, f-ck the n-gg-s with them
i’m gonna get them, promise i’mma hit them
pastor disaster, get off my d-ck
i be clean from my cup to my kicks
foreign! how i like my b-tch
y’all, n-gg-s, ain’t, sh-t!

[verse 5: jeezy]
made the forbes and i’m straight up outta projects
still running with them n-gg-s with that work check
it go “brrrrrrrr” with the choppa
that’s the only way the p-ssy ‘posed to stop ya
pour out a little liquor, one in every got a ghetto
stack a 20 bill, n-gg-, tall as carmelo
winter olympic games and the categories caine
bet ya one f-ckin’ thing, i’ll win a gold medal
why ya actin’ like a b-tch? lil jon, my n-gg-
don’t you ever doubt me, i’m like lebron, my n-gg-
i ain’t takin’ no shorts, b-tch, i hit it with the fork
f-ck a wrist game, use my whole arm, my n-gg-
snowman, b-tch, y’all know me
fourth quarter pressure on ’em like kobe
act like my sh-t don’t stink, pocket feel like a bank
neck lookin’ like a 40 ounce of o.e
tell me why my alb-m selling, they ain’t murder me yet
if they do, bury me in a burgundy ‘vette
talk behind my back, you could hate me all ya want
but them same f-ck n-gg-s ain’t shot sh-t yet
yeah, you see me on gangland, as real as it get
they just rappin’ about it, i was livin’ that sh-t
straight up

[bridge: t.i.]
this for my n-gg-s when they walk up out the house, they (turn it)
f-ck what ya mouth say (turn it, turn it)

[verse 6: t.i.]
fully automatic rifle, 100 round drum on it with a scope
i done had that, n-gg- (brrrrrrr, stick ’em)
i ain’t playing with these n-gg-s, just k!ll ’em, turn it
n-gg- talk sh-t, i’ll blast that n-gg-
shoot his -ss right in front his homeboys
k!ll the party, drove off and then stab that n-gg-
everyone vicinity hear the boy ho noise
i’m the zone 1 king, from a whole one thing
threw a 100 on it, shawty, i was doing my thing
you tryna get a million, i done did that
aye, keep it pimpin’, keep a ticket where i live at
aye, listen, sucka, i got nothin’ for ya but a new coffin
i’ll shoot you walkin’ ‘fore you get through talkin’, n-gg-!
catch me walkin’ in ya hood, trench coat swingin’
mask on, step up on ya front porch bangin’
them bankhead n-gg-s, they a muhf-cka, ain’t they?
i’m the realest, richest n-gg- that you know today famous
catch ya flaggin’ in ya hood and ya wanna be a gangsta
in ya skinny jeans in arenas entertainin’
no matter how you paint it, better see the big picture
i’ll get ya, n-gg-, wit’ ya, then hit ya n-gg-!

[verse 7: diddy]
i ain’t tryna hear a whole bunch of that sh-t
about how many bodies you caught
my n-gg-s is real thug n-gg-s
them real n-gg-s dont talk
worldstar n-gg-s get caught
wavin’ all them guns at the cameras
dumb-ss n-gg- you ain’t bout to shoot sh-t
you dont do sh-t, you just think its cool sh-t, to move bricks
real n-gg-s do it cause they got to
i know them real n-gg-s and it’s not you
and if they see your -ss ’round hear frontin’
a real shooter be somewhere and shot you
man get the f-ck out the booth poppin ‘that sh-t
corny -ss n-gg- just talkin’ that sh-t
heard about it, read about it, never been around it
but you think its all fab to somebody that
why you movin’ round with your ho?
you ain’t even stickin’ to the code
you dont even represent the life right
p-ssy n-gg-s sleeping with a night light
coming for your head like fight night
get anything done for the right price, boy!
(bad boy)
[hook: future]

[verse 8: schoolby q]
frontin’ like you really on that bullsh-t
gun em’ down, make a motherf-cker do a full flip, tip tip
n-gg- really, really on that crip sh-t
bisquick, whip, whip, whip, n-gg- move it
got the tool and get a piece, imma use it
n-gg- rutheless, leave a chop n-gg- toothless, tellem smoochies (yawk, yawk)
got that white girl, get a tan when i ice her, arm and hammer
mixin’ venom like a viper, want to buy her
i’m the n-gg- with the fire since a minor
now i’m major, with the paper coppin’ acres overseas like a sailor
you a hater and your daddy in the same boat
you a busta, where your chain go?
pour syrup on my eggo, 4 liters for the 8 tho, to the face now the day slow
yous a fruity little rainbow, real n-gg- call me django
50 seconds [?] shootin’ halos
every pocket got a bank roll
i don’t think you really understand me
groovy q’ll get the nose candy

[verse 9: future]
bought the ho a hunned pair of red bottoms
thats a quarter milly on a hand job my n-gg-
blllll stick’em f-ck you and every n-gg- came witcha
gone put a n-gg- on a picture
gone put a n-gg- on a t-shirt
back in the day when a n-gg- sell dope
i’mma slap your daddy allofdem put’em in a hole
glock 40 whooo
my ambitions as a rider
sipping on lean getting higher
n-gg- im a codein buyer
no you ain’t no foreign whip driver
shoutout to the shooters and the shooters only
you never walk around with alot of money
bundles falling all out your pocket
when you hit’em in the head can you keep a solid
bulletproof whip we’ll blow it up
like some raw uncut don’t blow it up
represent your gang n-gg- throw it up
i don’t give a f-ck where you at n-gg- throw it up

- yamine lyrics

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