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wild n out - ysr loski lyrics

[intro]
(yeah, baby, you did this one)
(yeah, baby, you did this one)

[verse 1: ysr loski]
take a step back with the glock out my pants and start shootin’
in an srt, the insides poodle
take a look at our block, we all stupid
let the chop off, it hit a sound like metro boomin
i was young, throwin’ fours in the projects foolin’
take your sh*t and run to the ‘partment with scooter
opp throwin’ big b’s, but my pops see hoover
n*ggas think they cool, but this tec, he cooler
threw bro the ball, he caught the pass like e. cooper
the police keep tryna catch us slippin’, but we keep jukin’
we on lebeau makin’ screen passes like we hoopin’
and we ain’t got nothin’ for the five, b*tch, keep movin’
high as h*ll, pass me a water ’cause the perc bitin’
started to lay damo in the race like joe biden
and we don’t tolerate no disrespect, get your jaw wired
i promise i’ma run me up a bag ’til i get tired
you don’t do the right speed limit, you gon’ get fired
n*gga touched his first five thousand, tried to retire
n*gga, you can run up a hundred, you better retire
i done did a lot of sh*t, i ain’t never tried meijers
i’ma shoot this ar ’til this b*tch catch on fire
you can get some money, get a rental and a driver
i’ma go somewhere where the ‘bows go for higher
put it in my hand, it’s gon’ sing like mariah
put it in my hand, it’s gon’ move like it’s flyin’
like n*gga, give it up, make a move and you dying
my n*gga keep a strap on him like he dyking
i ain’t nothin’ up with no b*tch, one nighting
[verse 2: ysr gramz]
i’m goin’ out of town with the weed ’cause the prices higher
chase a n*gga down with the chop, i’m not michael myers
i got fourteen p’s, do you got a buyer?
when you run into the money, you don’t get tired
my n*gga mixed the cherry with gelato, he tryna get higher
if you can drive fourteen hours, you can get higher
i heard your b*tch f*ckin’ with the opps, she better get fired
d*mn, that sh*t f*cked up
i can go anywhere i want, they won’t touch us
you got a gun, but you can’t shoot sh*t, you like westbrook
tried to perform, f*cked around and got your chain took
n*gga touched this ysr piece, got his brian bust
i was in the red zone for forty days before i came up
you the type to make a hundred k and then change up
n*ggas tryna rap like they from flint but they ain’t us
7.62s hit his body, he got ate up
i’ll never shop with dog, he got fake runtz
think them shoes on his— okay
you think them shoes real on his feet, he got fake stuff

- ysr loski lyrics

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