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young schwarzenegger part 2 - young yugo lyrics

the yugoslavian…blunt smoke on the cardigan, no…youre not harmin him, im from the land of the smack where you get capped for your fake adidas and your fiat
gypsy kids settin road blocks, boilin milk on the stove top, i left the war cause war sucks, now im steppin up in canada with the torn chucks
jump on the bus, get the drugs, hop in a cab pay the man hit the club, we turnin up for no reason, do a bump of blow in the back and try to keep from sneezin
don’t f-ck with the monster, im at a function tradin boxes with some mobsters, furious d boy i run it like a stallion, tryna stay balanced, put the c0ke on the balance, came to the west tryna run from the violence…. got the digits better dial em, file em, in the suit is how i style em, white tie white pants fight stance, i might dance til the sunrise, we bun lye pop pills chew fungi, run lights in the wagon, puffin smoke like the dragon, t-ts saggin out the side of the bikini, dirty martini doin lines in tahiti, lil weezy on the tv, lil weezy on the cd, carter 1, carter 2, carter 3
chew shrooms like bubblegum, thunder tongue, control the game got it under thumbs, feel me, understand me, got the whiskey on ice like it’s gunnin for the stanley, put the torch to your porch if you f-ckin with the family, grams green, grams white, grams tan colour, i ran flour out the back of my dad’s impala, thousand dollas in the whiskey sour

young yugew, out past curfew, smokin on the new, now the car smell like doo doo, who knew the boy could rap ten tan caps get popped around the back, thick tan -ss gets dropped in black sedans, got the game wrapped up like pakistan, got the haze wrapped up in amsterdam
blow the kush thru my nostrils, the smoke drifts past my tonsils, roll the swisha up, one blunt its a gong show, cuttin c0ke in toronto, ballin like rondo, hot boxin the condo, youre not stoppin the marvel, the young harvard, i spit like a llama, yall spittin that garbage, let me teach you my language, i hit you with college bars tryna spit knowledge, puttin rappers in anguish, i split you like chocolate bars never been tarnished, bowlin ballin im polished, not novice, i smell like a florist, or a botanist, if i had a problem yesterday then i probably forgotten it, 2 days im not botherin, 3 days thats a life time…in my mind

drink so much b-tch im swimmin in it, left plenty women just to keep the henny with me, sippin whiskey…couldn’t ask for much else…from the top to the bottom shelf.. got my mom worried for my health, shots like im rob horry

back in grade 7 poppin b-n-rs to some middrift, stick shift thru traffic like a dipsh-t, big spliff lit tip smells like pig sh-t, thick b-tch in the crib and she milk d-cks, big t-ts on the b-tch ya i l!ck them, fl!ck them d-ck them then i f-ckin squirt, hurt feelings, i hit the b-tch and hit the dirt, hid the work, you suckers never find it, my tracks get rewinded, cause my lines is…flyin past your eyelids, shh silence, no speakin on the track, no speakin when i rap, she leakin when i hit that -ss, hit the gas when im blazin, im with an asian lady gettin persuaded to go places..nah f-ck it, im just wasted, never listen to a lady, catch me in mercedes blastin weezy f baby, and please say the baby, he’s a legend are you crazy?

sunny day, purple haze, got the cup filled up, now we waste away
eyes red shirt covered in sweat, ashtray full of joints and cigarettes

young yugo, higher than the top shelf, pop pills all the time but im not ill, im from the sh-t part of the europe, two cups in the hand when i sip on the syrup, i’ll be the king like simba, roast pumba on the spinner at the family dinner, ya my family winners, won’t stop til the drop tops and fancy villas
dont let ya dame go missin, the flame gon’ glisten, if u hate dont listen, at this rate i’ll make millions, garage full of cars that are missin their ceilings
it’s hard to make a rhyme that’s not about b-tches, that’s not about drugs and that’s not pimpin, but that’s my religion, nod your head to the beat if you f-ckin wit it
im from the balkan part, if u think of where im from you think war and drugs, and gypsy thugs… and every single d-mn little f-ckin piggie’s corrupt
but f-ck that sh-t these days i light spliffs while i suntan my d-ck, and your mum fans my b-tch, stash the drugs in the coochi while we run past the pigs

i’m harmin ’em, young yugoslavian, lucky when i f-ck em like a baby arm punchin em, your b-tch on my kn-b and she slobberin, gobblin, me im a goblin like tyler the creator, turnin kush into vapour like a young schwarzenegger

back from the future/ stoned like medusa/ catch me gettin brains in a souped up supra/ yugo is the future/ yugo hallelujah/ hey how ya doin/ f-cked her ‘fore i knew her/ i chill with losers, c0ke fiend abusers/ rope swing, smoke clean, dont bring juniors/ this is for the heavyweights, the straight f-ckin bruisers/ sunset cruises, blunts, s-x, music/
lace the beat like the c0ke on the weed/ got the green, got the pink, got the smoke from the seed
got tabs, got white/ what a night what a night
im doing blo with some hoe i dont know/so, curtains closed, eyes twitchy/ bun spliffy, f-ck wit me/ trunk piffy, cop the ounce for a buck fifty
higher than basketball rims to kids/ got a big spliff lit and it smells like sh-t/ got the d-ck tip in and it barely fits/ put the whole thing in now we havin kids/ yes, now she havin fits/ shakes on the bed while she holds her t-ts/ i fold her legs, expose her sh-t/ now im diggin in the p-ssy like a f-ckin tick, you get it?/ wet it like a plumber when im in it, when i hit it, got her twitchin/ yoga positions, from the bed into the kitchen/ im in that kitten, got her submittin, but im just beginnin/ i eat the p-ssy like im cantonese/ im high on trees flyin somewhere overseas/ yup, deep up in the ovaries, young yugonamese, that’s me
the part time m-st-rbator/ part time p-ssy smasher, the kushy asher/ i do it faster, n0body is comin after…me, the g, peep, you can see me in a jeep, wheelin down the street, the weenie gettin cleaned/ rollin cheech, sparkin chong/ hit the splee, -ssault the bong/ catch me with your mom out in nam eatin lobster arms

head full of acid, t-ts full of plastic, kids gettin plastered, the pigs gettin h-ssled, me im white castled up in the aston, legs get casted if u f-ckin with the family, the boy sick like the cycle, grip on the rifle, catch me slidin down the eifel…tower, devour you cowards, got a pocket full of powder in a bar in east atlanta, call me santa with the snow ive been havin, head full of magic got you haters gettin tragic, gator on the jacket, body wrapped in fabrics that were woven in the mountains, got that dough like bob saget
these hoes actin ratchet, gotta flip the mattress when i smash it cause she that wet, the yugoslav the boy spit with an accent, blunt color desert, roll up the cactus
young yugo, i go, you go/ to the store to pick up fruit roll…ups/ ya, you roll up while i pour up, im so f-cked it’s hard to get the liquor to go in the cup, who gives a f-ck/ certainly not me, she twerkin on her knees, yugo workin overseas/ tryna stack the green, tryna live right, im so high i might take flight and reach sp-ce, outta sight/ your weak j’s i dont light/ catch me tossin hundreds at a muy tai fight/ house by the lake, drunk boatin in the night/ i bet the fish gone bite cause my lines so tight

young yugo he’s a f-ckin -ssh0l-, low cashflow im still tryna smash tho, im bashful, happy, gotta pocket full of napkins cause im snortin up a mountain, 10 times this week but who’s countin, if i had an accountant he’d probably wanna slap me, catch me chattin up the cabbie 3 am he iraqi, im not black but i rap, see, im not cl-ssy, still got the rye in the gl-ssy

roll the spliff, crush the c0ke into a powder son/ i feel powerful more power than the chosen one/ i got soul, more souls than the holy one/ roll me one…a coney one/ full of kush, haze, sour, full of weed man whatever the f-ck/

run up in your crib like goldilocks, like ho dont move i got the 40 c-cked, ya my shorty hot, i got a h-rny c-ck, smoked a whole ounce it’s only 4 oclock, my hoe be like you should probably stop, b-tch probably not, i got that army pot, yup…that mean k!ller green, sip gasolean that mean codeine, flow so clean, hoes on both knees, suckin d-ck for attention man this world’s so mean…ya this world’s so cold, that’s why theres c0ke in my nose, thats why i smoke on these o’s, and poke on these hoes…

pound of kush in the jetta, cosby on the sweater, countin up the feta we dont want your mozarella, or your cheddar, my b-tch fat like elvis, got my pelvis thrustin on her melons
gimme gimme, whatever youre sellin, propellers on the jet got me fly like a pelican, im smokin like a mexican, eatin like a texan, my mouth full of x’s/
big women, big big women, big spliff, big drink, big chillin, cup spillin, blunts we be k!llin, ladies hide your children cause the villains in the building
one time for the homies in the motherland, i roll another gram, pour another mac-a-llan
actually that’s macallan, tropical island with the music full of violins
my liver talkin to me, sayin please stop it, keep up with this habit you gon’ end up in a coffin, c0ke in my nose, lightin up a rocket, any pills you can think of, man, you know i’m on em
im a cool guy, with 9 lives, blowin kush off the coast of the maldives, on the boat, underwater, blood red eyes, color coded belts, all shoes same size, couple socks just in case i play basketball, half of y’all look like alcohols, i didn’t think i could rap at all, now im rappin off the wall like a tennis ball
press z on the thunderbolt and squish you haters, your b-tch do favours, 10 dead gators, food exotically flavoured…the suit is tailored, hangover breakfast is catered

- young yugo lyrics

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