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concentrated - yck lyrics

[chorus]
run up on a b*tch, got both my wrists slit
fall back, reload, got a full clip
in the back seat, lemme’ take another hit
while i vanish into black every time i go split
run up on a b*tch, got both my wrists slit
fall back, reload, got a full clip
in the back seat, lemme’ take another hit
while i vanish into black every time i go split

[verse 1]
d*ckriders out while they jack another style
motherf*ckers talk bad, i been doing this a while
no it ain’t special, no it ain’t nothing new
all that sh*t bad, you ain’t even in my view
ch*nk on the come up, i don’t hear a f*cking doubt
got a f*cking problem, i don’t see you come around
making no noise, you ain’t even speaking loud
all these people standing still in a small dead crowd
give a man shade cause’ the bars i spit are hot
never be worth sh*t with all the loot you get or got
think you on top now you got a big head
put you back in your place, taking back what you said
take a little break, step back give it time
but i’ll be right here and i’ll stay spitting rhymes
who’s set is this? look around b*tch, it’s mine
don’t care much if you go and quit, it’s fine
[chorus]
run up on a b*tch, got both my wrists slit
fall back, reload, got a full clip
in the back seat, lemme’ take another hit
while i vanish into black every time i go split
run up on a b*tch, got both my wrists slit
fall back, reload, got a full clip
in the back seat, lemme’ take another hit
while i vanish into black every time i go split

[verse 2]
posted with an automatic, try to bring me static
motherf*cker started bragging that his b*tch was the baddest
but i can make a promise that she really f*cking wasn’t
said he been slinging dope but he really f*cking doesn’t
no free pass, b*tch we all got to pay
no i don’t make the rules, the f*ck you want me to say?
f*ck a cop snitching, definition of a pig
yeah we all make a living, it’s your own grave ya dig
pull up to your residence, say “f*ck all who you messin’ with”
you’re owing people dope, b*tch you gotta settle sh*t
running out your pockets, where the f*ck did it go?
all that sh*t’s gone, blowing on a couple o’s
b*tches don’t regret long as they can make a profit
they just care about a penny,they can walk and go deposit
don’t give a f*ck, they just want it to themselves
but they’re gonna die slow cause’ of all the sh*t they sell
[chorus]
run up on a b*tch, got both my wrists slit
fall back, reload, got a full clip
in the back seat, lemme’ take another hit
while i vanish into black every time i go split
run up on a b*tch, got both my wrists slit
fall back, reload, got a full clip
in the back seat, lemme’ take another hit
while i vanish into black every time i go split

- yck lyrics

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