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bring it here - ysr gramz lyrics

[intro]
mm, yung sak runner
(d*mn, boom made this?)

[chorus]
b*tch, if you got some money for me, bring it here
i’m tryna f*ck this b*tch, the only reason why i’m in her ear
don’t like no ugly hoes, you know i like my hoes top tier
it’s like the glock glued to my hand, i take it everywhere
i be everywhere that money at, n*gga, you never there
i cannot hide from this sh*t, b*tch, i be everywhere
couldn’t get them j’s, but my son got ’em, he get every pair
lost my n*gga, he left four kids, man, that sh*t ain’t fair

[verse 1]
i got clothes in my closet i don’t even wear
baby j the only child, he don’t like to share
can’t get caught up in my feelings, i don’t even care
that ain’t gas that you smokin’, boy, you smokin’ air
f*ck you and f*ck them n*ggas that you hangin’ with
hit him with a glock 23, he ain’t takin’ sh*t
found out a n*gga f*cked his b*tch, now he breakin’ sh*t
bought some bullsh*t weed, now you ain’t makin’ sh*t
she told everybody that i f*cked, now i hate this b*tch
i just sold a n*gga a whole ‘bow and i ain’t weigh the sh*t
it might not happen overnight, you gotta wait and sh*t
i’m fresh as h*ll, i be out here wearin’ all the latest sh*t
i been runnin’ to this money since a snotty nose
n*gga went broke, all he bought was designer clothes
you got all ugly b*tches, you need finer hoes
i only like pretty b*tches with the white toes
hit him with this fn five*seven, he can’t fight those
punch in on everything, i ain’t write those
you got si diamonds in your chain, i don’t like those
bro just pulled up with some bad*ass white hoes
i ain’t tryna be your boyfriend, b*tch, suck it to me
your baby daddy broke, he like a junkie to me
she a real*ass b*tch, she brought money to me
this n*gga think he fresh as h*ll, but he bummy to me
[chorus]
b*tch, if you got some money for me, bring it here
i’m tryna f*ck this b*tch, the only reason why i’m in her ear
don’t like no ugly hoes, you know i like my hoes top tier
it’s like the glock glued to my hand, i take it everywhere
i be everywhere that money at, n*gga, you never there
i cannot hide from this sh*t, b*tch, i be everywhere
couldn’t get them j’s, but my son got ’em, he get every pair
lost my n*gga, he left four kids, man, that sh*t ain’t fair

[verse 2]
quit rappin’ ’bout the trappin’, put some pain on it
this a glock 23, put his brain on it
knew that n*gga was gon’ change, he got fame on us
she had to cut her n*gga off, he got lame on her
i’m a yung sak runner, baby, sing to me
fell in love with auntie, she brung lean to me
if you pay me top dollar for it, i’ll bring it to you
7.62s in this chop, i’ll bring it to you

[outro]
(d*mn, boom made this?)

- ysr gramz lyrics

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