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30 shots - ytb 30 lyrics

[intro]
lets go
i’m 30
ytb grrah
free da guys
boom

[chorus]
shots from the windows
n*gga 30 shots in my f.n
not a lil youngin, better watch your mouth
you speak on drilly, you on death row
30 shots
30 guns
ytb 30

[verse 1]
draco knocked a chunk up out his back like he workin’ for apple
shie just poured a six up in the sprite, i pour eight in the snapple
if i catch this opp all by myself, i’ma spray him without ’em
smoke back*to*back in the audi, we got this ho partly cloudy
rocked his ass to sleep, we slimed him out after we took him in
he was clubbin’ with the other side, we had to cook his ass
we just shook they block in the [fx/ fn/ fa?] [2:16] but we had texas tag
dropped his ass then hit his n*gga up, so we burnt up the jag
and my hood treat mе like baby, four packs of fentanyl on me
hatе to serve your lil’ old lady, but granny keep callin’ me
any chopper hits, ’bout eighty ten shot for who followin’ me
in these streets, it’s eat or get ate, ain’t no n*ggas swallowin’ me, brr
see something, i got to have it, tuck your chain before i grab it (ayy, tuck your chain, brrt)
spin this block in the caddy, these f&n’s black and plastic (brrt)
miss gladys raised a savage (savage), they said i shoot like my daddy (my daddy)
spent thirty*eight racks to fix my smile and went at a kardashian
ate thirty*eight racks to fix my grill, fifteen*eighty a tooth (bling)
b*tch talkin’ ’bout us settling down, but i’m f*ckin’ her crew (she know it)
375, 4 pockets full, choppers and residue (brrt)
we certified like the truth, b*tch, it’s 30 (brrt)
[chorus]
shots from the windows
n*gga 30 shots in my f.n
not a lil youngin, better watch your mouth
you speak on drilly, you on death row
30 shots
30 guns
ytb 30

[verse 2]
pay my tithes at church from hustlin’, even the pastor know we thuggin’ (amen)
my lil’ cousin shot my brother, my brother got back, don’t f*ck with my cousin
we got glocks from seventeen, shoot .33, we ain’t goin’ for nothin’ (nothin’)
he tried to do what i do and i do what i do, he really my baby boy (oh yeah)
kel tec 223 with a hundred round drum, that’s probably my favorite gun
everybody know how it go and seen bro on bro, on god, we ain’t shootin’ no ones
30 got mills, i come through, foreign
sell these bands if it ain’t no tourin’
fresh white tee and some off*white jordans
trackhawk too loud, it don’t need no h*rn
keep my weed, i need my drugs
got two chefs, gotta feed my son
soon as my feet hear the screech, i run
burn through weed every week, buy tons
n*gga, i’ma speak, ain’t bitin’ my tongue
only one that’s havin’ that sh*t where i’m from
been runnin’ sh*t ever since i was young
f*ck all my teachers, said i wouldn’t be nothin’
[chorus]
shots from the windows
n*gga 30 shots in my f.n
not a lil youngin, better watch your mouth
you speak on drilly, you on death row
30 shots
30 guns
ytb 30

[outro]
got twenty shots left up in the k (brrt), thought i shot the whole hundred
ytb 30
baow

- ytb 30 lyrics

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