a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

draymond green - ysr gramz lyrics

[intro]
(enrgy made this one)

[verse 1: ysr gramz]
my young n*ggas ready to turn a f*ck n*gga to rapper weed
i ain’t tryna hear a n*gga rap, he gon’ cap to me
he ain’t even my motherf*ckin’ son, they tryna act like me
i got a bunch of n*ggas ot tryna rap like me

[verse 2: babyfxce e]
they tryna copy everything i do, they tryna act like e
you better come pape’ in hand, b*tch, i don’t rap for free
i gotta watch my head, got drunk as h*ll and almost cracked a freak
on the eastside with my d n*ggas gettin’ scats for cheap
[verse 3: ysr gramz]
you know i’m finna let this b*tch blow if i rack my heat
you know i live a bag life, that’s why i rap with tee
a n*gga make a rap song ’bout me, i’m sn*tchin’ out his t**th
he heard a beecher n*gga f*cked his b*tch, he smackin’ on his freak
i’ll blow a n*gga’s sh*t out like i’m draymond green
you and your n*ggas ain’t never won sh*t, you on an ass team
this weed i put up in this backwood smell like bad feet
driveway just hit for twenty bands, that was last week

[verse 4: babyfxce e]
and my other n*ggas came back with a thirty, so that’s fifty total
me and gramz cookin’ in the stu’, we got the kitchen open
we let you lil’ n*ggas have a run, now the kitchen closed
be serious, he ain’t really gon’ blow that heat, he got a pistol holster
on mlk, walkin’ to the store, i got my pistol showin’
this rta, you can’t afford this sh*t, i’m havin’ different motion
my lil’ n*gga couldn’t aim the drac’, i had to lift it for him
i just got off the phone with the labels, they had a thick proposal

[verse 5: ysr gramz]
crash dummy*ass lil’ n*gga, i got a l!ck to show you
long live my n*gga skino, i’ma get rich for you
they ain’t tryna let us in the club, we got sticks on us
was f*cked up, started sh*t talkin’, then got rich on ’em
he talkin’ ’bout he don’t f*ck with gang, up bl!ck on him
fresh as h*ll with my bapes on, not rick owens
i’m a sak runner, i’ll sh*t on your big homie
lil’*ass bag, he only got like a zip on him
[verse 6: babyfxce e]
n*gga, how you tryna make some pros off a zip?
flint b*tches easy, you can get some hoes off a fifth
40 bullets built like peezy, catch an opp dozin’ off the trish
catch a n*gga clockin’ into work and blow him off the shift
n*gga, i’ma act how i wanna act, i don’t care who like me
i bought a glock for a reason, n*gga, who fightin’?
man, that n*gga hate my music, but his boo like me
leave him on the ground, his back in blood like he pooh shiesty

[outro]
n*gga
it’s with an x, n*gga
fxce

- ysr gramz lyrics

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular