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charles barkley - young bull & ralfy the plug lyrics

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[intro: young bull]
(what are you gonna do? are you gonna k!ll me, mr. j?)
mm, n*gga

[verse 1: young bull]
hit stick, a n*gga put him on a stretcher
all my n*ggas play with tools, rock and roll, heavy metal
if it ain’t about no money, then it ain’t up on my schedule
if you can’t under [?] me then you better grab a shovel
all these hundreds in a duffel, can’t no n*gga tell me nothin’
blew a n*gga face off for talkin’ crazy in my comments
thirty*two shots, [?] nickname charles barkley
in the coupe goin’ crazy, i don’t even know how to start it
put him on a stretcher, better yet in a coffin
i’m outside every day, n*ggas never on sh*t
boogeyman on your block, mini drac, i keep a chop
wockhardt in my cup, sippin’ on exotic pop

[verse 2: ralfy the plug]
who’s that creepin’ in the foreign? it’s the boogeyman
sendin’ bullets at his head ’til the fully jam
only time you was in the bank gettin’ money when you was scammin’
not no blower, you’ll get smacked down raw at the b*tch [?] manor
them n*ggas ain’t really outside, they on instagram
“ralfy, put the blower away”, it’s just a fan
like divorce court, we’ll split his head
he work security for a bakery, he ain’t gettin’ no bread
b*tch, ain’t nothin’ for you to do except give me some head
you can’t f*ck with me, n*gga, you must’ve bumped your head
had his b*tch in the backseat doin’ what ralfy says
none of you hoes was lookin’ for me when i was in jail, the plug
[verse 3: duffy]
it’s time to give these ho n*ggas h*ll
every hood the stincs’ name ring a bell
mud walkin’ with the devil, wock in the holy grail
n*ggas say they gettin’ money, i can’t tell
droppin’ sh*lls, i don’t think they gon’ try that again
why these other n*ggas not goin’ up like otm?
got the new school crackin’, we the leaders of it
outside every day with the heater on me, n*gga

[verse 4: blue pesos]
chalk zone, blocked the play and caught charles barkley
i just sh*t bagged him, left him in a porta potty
flee the scene, we gotta go, i think i hear johnnies
i don’t know sh*t about no gun, i’m just a songwriter
street sweepers, stinc meaner, do some spring cleanin’
n*ggas cheerleaders, f*gs, and weird n*ggas
a bunch of cornb*lls, n*gga, we don’t know y’all
blame ’round me ’cause i’m c*cky, neck roll bouncin’

[verse 5: allblack]
at the edge of the bed with my iphone
bucket*ass n*gga with my mics on
hikin’ b*lls like the center in the red zone
ran outta nut, she still h*rny, put my mans on
friendly motherf*cker, every b*tch i got is shareable
last night, i took it overboard, i feel terrible
my mans turned opp, sh*t, the pain is unbearable
your rank and my rank is nowhere comparable
smash it from the back, i’m holdin’ on by her creases
took a whole bath and changed clothes up in neimans
i’m petty, i start smashin’ on a b*tch for no reason
i just chewed two x pills and n0body seen it
i run plays and i run on beats, willie beamen
i’m in the field grabbin’ all these n*ggas like i’m reavis
i gets nothin’ but b*tthead, b*tch, i’m beavis
can’t wait to go to h*ll so i can mob with all my demons
[outro: allblack]
black, thank you
thank you for f*ckin’ with me

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