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him (remix) - ysn flow & jaywall lyrics

[intro]
hit a b*tton, morty, give me a beat
oh, man, okay, alright, um
raesam on the beat

[verse 1: jaywall]
run up a milli’ then hop out the cut with the ‘vert
they hit my line for the work, sticks like the navy
on top of these n*ggas live gravy
gave them the route like i’m brady
she think i’m a cheater, she think i f*ck with a eater
cut that ho off, i don’t need her
run up that money for d
then i split with my team and i promise i ain’t here for the fame
i put a rollie on n*ggas who never had money
thеy only gon’ bang for the gang
they told me jaywall you rapping, you capping
you madе it and came back and act like you changed
maybe i changed ’cause they never believed in dreams
and the things that i set to achieve
we never having the money on christmas
i told my lil’ brother we got to believe
how i’ma sleep when they fighting with bullets?
they k!lling the rested a stepper lil steve
his momma she worried, he all in the streets with that work
after church he went straight to the g
jeans on me, ‘miri, glock on me holding a thirty
creep on that n*gga, we sent a few hoes, they my birdies
they keep me in the rotation
they let me know where the money and jewelry located
[verse 2: ysn flow]
and now i’m stepping, i only hang around steppers
if you got a problem, i’ma address it, no, i’m not pressing
i’m in the coupe 2021, racks in the seat, this a blessing
2011, every sunday used to go to church for my grandma
fell asleep on the reverend
i worth a ticket, ain’t talking lottery
close my eyes and i see seven*seven*seven
they know we never on broke sh*t, opps on some ho sh*t
your man in the ‘wood, we smoking
i gotta cut from the [pershing?]
glock on my hip, i [?] you, don’t cause no commotions
he only tweak off the drugs
i got a n*gga who don’t even smoke, he just blow sh*t
you put on drip [?]
i put on drip everytime i wake up in the morning
creep around the cut, let me tip toe
glock through the window, two*three came with a extendo
i still be f*cking around with the choppa
i got racks on my pockets, like “bro, where you get them?”
play games on a b*tch, no nintendo
i’ma f*ck, can’t make her my b*tch though
i know b*tches be f*cking with opps
so know if we link up, i’ma f*ck with my pistol

[verse 3: jaywall]
ain’t talking murder, we leave a n*gga unheard of
he on the back of the milk, we leaving sh*lls like a turtle
did a 110, i taught my shooter to hurdle
hop out the burban, security clutching the pole
he got a license to lay down a n*gga
who think that it’s funny and act like a joke
i kinda see why you really don’t like me
you think that you icy, i’m melting you down
i got your manager all in my dm
like i’m on a pedestal, you on the ground
i got your momma, she clapping for me
like she knew all the words to my song like a vow
i know i’m making her proud
she said to be everything that you said you going be
you steady letting her down
i’m really sorry for taking the shine that you needed
i guess you can say i’m conceded
hopped on the track then i upload straight to the g
got b*tches recording the screen
bto, get racks, we bought out half of the club
just so the women can enter the building
and we say the henny is covered on us

- ysn flow jaywall lyrics

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