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alpo - ysr gramz lyrics

[intro: ysr gramz]
i don’t give a f*ck, my n*ggas slimy
i don’t give a f*ck, you n*ggas grimy
like an id (ooh, sav k!lled it)

[chorus: ysr gramz]
i can’t trust sh*t, these n*ggas grimy
i don’t give a f*ck, my n*ggas slimy
we put ’em in a box like an id
you can’t tryst these hoes ’cause they trifling
your boyfriend broke, i can’t be like him
when them n*ggas see us comin’, they don’t like them
them n*ggas know we got the sauce, them n*ggas bitin’
i can see me gettin’ rich, i’m a psychic
[verse 1: ysr gramz]
you ain’t got no money, you can’t buy sh*t
that money turn ’em on like a light switch
i’m tryna find a plug, i need a wide b*tch
man, i’m tryna find a plug, i’m tryna buy sh*t
my n*gga stay down with me, i’ma ice his neck
where the plug with them ‘bows? i’m tryna spend a check
je said the road green like that n*gga shrek
i got a play in gb, he meet me on the west
when a n*gga fell off, ain’t n0body catch me
i’m like jordan in ’91, can’t n0body check me
seem like the n*ggas closest to you try to catch you slippin’
my young dog sixteen and got a smith & wesson
everywhere a n*gga go, i gotta keep my weapon
n*ggas speakin’ on the dead, them n*ggas disrespectful
n*gga finesse you for them ‘bows, he done took your blessing
don’t show these n*ggas sh*t, you gotta keep ’em guessing

[chorus: ysr gramz]
i can’t trust sh*t, these n*ggas grimy
i don’t give a f*ck, my n*ggas slimy
we put ’em in a box like an id
you can’t tryst these hoes ’cause they trifling
your boyfriend broke, i can’t be like him
when them n*ggas see us comin’, they don’t like them
them n*ggas know we got the sauce, them n*ggas bitin’
i can see me gettin’ rich, i’m a psychic
[verse 2: don perrion]
these handicap broke n*ggas need a fix*up
some bad b*tches got bad breath, no, we can’t hook up
dusty had all the phones, feel like got the hook*up
the l really slap, i don’t say that for nothin’
i ain’t took no trip yet, n*gga, i been hustlin’
pray we make it out the h*llhole ’cause the streets muddy
i had to stop the lean, i had a weak stomach
me and my b*tch had split apart ’cause she was creepin’ on me
i dropped that off my mind and they stopped sleepin’ on me
karma realer than a b*tch, i feel it peekin’ on me
the whole time i was up, i was still money*hungry
p a bad motherf*cker when that sh*t on him
i’ll go ghost and pop back out like rich homie
no, you not my slime if you not my daughter or my homie
no, you cannot get no f*ckin’ feat if you ain’t got no money
wish i can give y’all sh*t back, the lord know i’m lyin’
man, i can’t even lie, i really miss robbin’
i’m the only bull in michigan like dennis rodman
lil’ wh0re threw me a towel when she got done moppin’
when i was f*ckin’ on shorty, i swear we was the topic

- ysr gramz lyrics

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