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samuel l. gramz, pt. 2 - ysr gramz lyrics

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[intro]
for he is truly his brother’s keeper and the finder of lost children
yeah
and i will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers
and you will know my name is the lord
(no julius)
nah, for real
nah, nah, for real

[chorus]
call me gramz, want them jacks just like samuel
just ’cause you say you real, that don’t make you real
n*gga stressed the f*ck out, i’m finna take a pill
i sh*t talk so much, i went and got a grill
my b*tch mad i be actin’ like i ain’t got a girl
i don’t put sh*t on my son, i’m tryin’ to give him the world
everybody hatin’ on a n*gga, they want me to fail
b*tch, you wasn’t down bad with me whеn i was at [?]

[verse]
i ain’t never did a scam, i got sh*t for sale
so many bullеts in this glock, let’s go sh*ll for sh*ll
up late catchin’ plays eatin’ taco bell
i heard her p*ssy bad as h*ll, it got a nacho smell
i’m tryna sh*t talk on the beat, i’m finna call rell
i told her, “bend the f*ck over”, she was tall as h*ll
on the phone with my n*gga mo, he talkin’ ’bout all is well
out of town, told bro he gotta catch the mail
if i fall off, ain’t got n0body, i gotta catch myself
almost did some sh*t, i had to catch myself
bro got an old*ass tech, he just like a ref’
don’t go slidin’ with n0body, do it by yourself
my n*gga a hard body, boy, he just like jeff
i don’t want no head from that b*tch, i can smell her breath
don’t invite my n*ggas to the party, sh*t gon’ go left
they locked my n*gga down ’cause he was sellin’ meth
that draco short as h*ll, so i call it f
he was actin’ tough on the ‘net, so he caught the belt
i can’t sign to no label, they gon’ try to shelf
it ain’t hard in real life, catch him by his self
sometimes i be feelin’ like i’m not myself
if i ain’t got n0body else, i know i got myself
since a bad*ass jit, i’ve been sack runnin’
i ain’t never, ever got a strap took from me
your boyfriend a b*tch back then, he bought cookie from me
i hit her for the free ball, you bought p*ssy from her
i was a badass kid, you got boosie numbers?
i still ball on n*ggas, i got an ugly jumper
[chorus]
call me gramz, want them jacks just like samuel
just ’cause you say you real, that don’t make you real
n*gga stressed the f*ck out, i’m finna take a pill
i sh*t talk so much, i went and got a grill
my b*tch mad i be actin’ like i ain’t got a girl
i don’t put sh*t on my son, i’m tryin’ to give him the world
everybody hatin’ on a n*gga, they want me to fail
b*tch, you wasn’t down bad with me when i was at [?]

[outro]
(no, julius)

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