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beecher to bompton - ysr gramz lyrics

[intro]
(i got so much enrgy)

[verse 1: ysr gramz]
n*gga, i’m from beecher (b’s up)
all my n*ggas is some creatures (yeah)
we gon’ slide in the— we gon’ slide in that eater
i want five for a feature (i want five)
you kissin’ on that b*tch, i wouldn’t keep her
n*ggas hoes, n*ggas ain’t on sh*t and they broke (yeah)
we got a chopper with a scope and i keep it in my coat
it get scary in the 810, n*ggas know
everywhere i go, i keep my pole (yeah)
everywhere i go, i get a low
a n*gga play with gramz, we gon’ do a n*gga bold (ayy, get that n*gga)
i don’t trust a soul, ’cause everybody fold
i’d rather hit the block and gеt it gone, you hit the road
slide on that n*gga, don’t bе shootin’ at no homes
7.62s broke his bones like i’m jones (get it?)
a n*gga hit my line talkin’ ’bout he got the ‘bows
i put my n*ggas on ’em, now them b*tches all gone
doggy on that opp sh*t, my n*ggas, they gon’ drop sh*t
f*ck the other side, we gon’ slide with them mopsticks
chopper with the wood and them b*tches look like chopsticks (ayy)

[verse 2: fatboy bizzle]
ayo, gramz, let me talk my sh*t
ayy, n*gga, this bompton, but my n*gga, he from beecher (ugh)
high school, was tryna f*ck on a teacher, i don’t want her, i don’t need her (ugh)
in traffic, probably slidin’ with an eater (ugh)
she just love to give me face, i don’t eat her, get my nut, then i leave her (ugh)
b*tch p*ssy soakin’, she a creamer (ugh)
sh*lls leave his head hot like a fever, where n*ggas fake ’cause of skeeter (ugh)
man, these n*ggas b*tches, n*ggas wieners (ugh)
vvs diamonds bustin’ out the meter, i be fly like i’m peter (ugh)
n*gga, i be fly like i’m peter pan (ugh)
f*ck around, whack an opp, then i do my dance (ugh)
you used to be the man, now you pick up cans (ugh)
b*tch, i used to want you, now i want your friend (ugh)
beat a n*gga ass up like i got eight hands (uh)
i’m finna have a ninesome, my b*tch brought eight friends (ugh)
i think i’m finna od, i’m off eight xans (ugh)
a n*gga say he want a verse from me, i need eight bands
[verse 3: ysr gramz]
you the type to jump in n*ggas’ beef, then take stands
seen your opposition f*ckin’ ’round and just shake hands
i learned how to jugg in the a down by bank head
if you ain’t down low, ysr, you a fake fan
beat a n*gga ass for tryna serve me some fake xans
i was on the block gettin’ money, ain’t ate yet
i’ma bring drich on the tour, he gon’ take sh*t
he hit the road and came back home, he ain’t make sh*t
we throwin’ big b’s in the parkin’ lot
got into a shootout the other day for a parking spot
paid me five hundred for a feature, bought another glock

[outro: ysr gramz]
ysr sh*t
beecher to bompton

- ysr gramz lyrics

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