who i am - yfg fatso lyrics
[intro]
(gfelds on the beat)
i’m chillin’, just get to know me
8 block sh*t, shout out kobe
yeah, come on
(gentle beatz)
run it up, n*gga
yeah, come on, yeah, uh*huh
[chorus]
i’m chillin’, just get to know me
8 block sh*t, shout out kobe
it feel like i won a trophy
i’m cool if you never below me
high tolerance, i’m overdosin’
i’m always over loadin’
it take lil’ longer flowin’
ap gang, my sh*t on me
we made n*ggas run laps
everybody gotta pay they tax
i’m high, so i can’t relax
bad b*tch tryna get me clapped
paranoid, so i keep the strap
try to get me, get put on his back
i’m really outsidе in the ‘jects
i’m on yale, pull around to thе back
[verse]
we turn sh*t sad days
my gun got a bad age
my son would’ve been like three
my b*tch got a public page
she want n*ggas in her face
she mine, but she really g*y
i like when she bring hoes
i hate when she goin’ away
i really like nasty hoes
street b*tch and classy hoes
i love me a trapper b*tch
at the crib, i got h*lla ‘bows
i can’t give the guys the lo’
i don’t want my fam’ to know
i don’t bring cameras in
hit the road, bringin’ grams home
i’m still puttin’ loaf aside
gang baby ‘nem love to ride
they dressed for a whole month straight
all black with they fingers tied
tryna catch them a n*gga outside
it’s bad if we get out of line
they ain’t really thinkin’ ’bout jail
they crashin’ with grams behind
roll it up, n*gga, we come hard, r*e*s*p*e*c*t (uh)
been doin’ this sh*t for a while, i’m humble if you can’t see
told smooch to chill, he been downin’ bars, that type of sh*t make him don’t eat
i like doin’ them 30s, for real, for real, if it’s ten, bet my sh*t pink
he can try if he want, i’ll be clear with this sh*t, i could swear it ain’t nothin’ ’bout me sweet
i’ve been smokin’ them n*ggas a minute ago on the game, now i’m deep in the street
don’t gang bang, i’m really just rappin’ the book, i don’t want them to be like me
don’t ever go through my phone, i’m tellin’ you now, gon’ be days before you could eat
[chorus]
i’m chillin’, just get to know me
8 block sh*t, shout out kobe
it feel like i won a trophy
i’m cool if you never below me
high tolerance, i’m overdosin’
i’m always over loadin’
it take lil’ longer flowin’
ap gang, my sh*t on me
we made n*ggas run laps
everybody gotta pay they tax
i’m high, so i can’t relax
bad b*tch tryna get me clapped
paranoid, so i keep the strap
try to get me, get put on his back
i’m really outside in the ‘jects
i’m on yale, pull around to the back
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