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fear factor - ysr gramz lyrics

[intro: ysr gramz]
yung sak runner, ysr sh*t
(thank you, j x l a n, i appreciate you)

[verse 1: ysr gramz]
told the plug, “i really appreciate you for this bag”
it don’t cost much to have my young n*ggas get on your ass
i was broke as f*ck, i left that broke sh*t up in the past
a hundred dollars for exotic*ass eighth, it smell like gas
i’m finna take this b*tch out like some trash
n*ggas sittin’ at the crib broke as h*ll, that’s why they mad
i f*ck for free, you be cashin’ a b*tch out, you her dad
bro just popped a blue pill, i took a half
he spent thirty on his watch, them lil’ n*ggas took it fast
it sound crazy, but when dog got popped, i was glad
still sellin’ weed in the hood, call me or chad
he got fake diamonds and his lil’ watch was made in a lab
i just bought a glock with a switch, it came from the ‘raq
my n*gga caught a body and got thirty, wish hе could take it back
you want a verse from kidd or gramz? cost likе eight racks
a n*gga walked up on me tryna reach, n*gga, take that

[verse 2: detwan love]
it ain’t cost nothin’ to get his ass k!lled, it was a shake back
chop hit him, dislocated his whole lower half
break him down like a pill, now he a lortab
hm, my lil’ bro just k!lled a n*gga and jumped back on the slab
bro got caught with dope and said he take it, they gave him rehab
how you let ’em catch you lackin’?
all type of designers on your head, we’ll wolf*pack you
every time gramz pour drank, it make me unactive
one call, i can turn a n*gga block to fear factor
i know they waitin’ on me to fail, you think i give a f*ck, hm?
sendin’ hits through my gmail like donald trump, huh
n*ggas weird, they got a place for them
my own mans in a race with me, it’s f*cked up, i’m prayin’ for him
[verse 3: ysr gramz]
i know some n*ggas made a hundred doin’ sn*tch*and*grabs
you can catch a 7.62 or you can catch a jab
the way i put that sh*t on, i think i’m fresh than fab
in la, just bought ten ‘bows, i’m finna catch a cab

[verse 4: detwan love]
brattin’ got your n*gga k!lled, sh*t ended him
i be with my fives, b*tch, like we go to michigan
plugged in in my hood, connected with the arabs
my n*gga sold to the cops, they gave him forty*five like ar*ab
yeah, n*gga

- ysr gramz lyrics

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