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ao - young chris lyrics

[verse 1]
everyday is freddy gray, mike brown’s in nicetown
trayvon’s in the daytime before you take mine
spend a dawg need pedigree for the kennel
no degree from temple no pad without a pencil
it’s mental
gotta keep some utensils, get gangsta n-ggas’ll test you
when you keep it too gentle
sacrifice half my life
down the middle with the splits
bullets i was bitin’ all i did most of the writin’
i swear you n-ggas is trifling
tears blood and sweat i’m fightin’
they tryna don king ya tyson
culinary grams like aunt jemima
only time you seen grams cook was aunty mama
ya’ll n-ggas is anti drama
ain’t really into that stop confusin’ the internet
a bunch of weirdos and dodgin’ into hoe sh-t
lost in the social the bosses scared to be vocal
a whole circle of yes men they insecure what i’m guessing
long as the string attached its another puppet that’s stressin
fools is dizzy caught up in 360s
spend it on busdowns blow it on v twizzys
see you chumps sittin pretty too
like pull up combat mack 11 with the t-tties that’s a hundred
each drum got 50
let it sing like drizzy
on everybody catchin’ bodies like nicki
we gettin’ busy n-gga

[verse 2]
for all the lost soldiers f-ck all the n-ggas that crossed over
like ya dawgs over
hope’s high, thoughts sober
added a s to my pain
to complain i went to spain
i want the c0ke i got the caine
i want the dough ya’ll got the fame
i whip this c0ke here dope fiend jackets out the lane
i caught the end of the illest era, me and these rappers not the same
disrespectful -ss kids using my name
i’m the same gunna before they came
f-ck boy know nothin’ about that rush clown
get a different feeling when it touchdown
back in the end zone got a b-tch that let me send home
i wanna f-ck her but she a hustla keep it friend zone
n-ggas plottin i keep the tints on
my n-ggas just waitin’ when it’s sunny to bring the trench home
thirsty -ss n-ggas’ll wet ya get your quench on
leavin’ them trenches if you n-ggas movin a inch wrong
see flintstone full of you barney rubbles
fruitcakes dressin’ up like couples
dressin’ up like chicks and ya’ll call it a drip
f-ckin’ gimps ya’ll should fall off a cliff
i hope ya coffin’ll dip
come equip yeah my -rs-nal thick
young carson in the pocket tryna toss em in his noggin’
when that money on they head got a clip to deposit
get them sticks out the closet
work them sh-ts out and chop it

[outro]
get the money don’t let it go to ya head
get the p-ssy don’t let it go to ya big
you f-ckin wit them b-tches gettin’ head goin raw
they gon leave ya to them n-ggas get ya head blown off
i done got my street sh-t need my other money up
want that overseas sh-t need my colored money up
makin sure my mom cool get my brother money up
makin sure my sis cool help my niece get through school
put my daughter in college get my nephew that knowledge
give the best to my son baby boy you the one uh
yeah

- young chris lyrics

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