[Intro]
(You're not making this easy, Kyle)
[Verse 1: YSR Gramz]
My nigga said he wanna make it out the hood, I told him it ain't easy
I'm a motherfuckin' ghetto boy, but I ain't with Peezy
He got seven fake chains on, his whole neck cheesy
My nigga fuckin' with that snow like he know Jeezy
Seventy-five dollars for an eighth, I don't smoke Breezy
She ain't let me fuck when I came over, this bitch keep teasin'
A nigga reached for a chain, made him meet Jesus
Brodie spent forty on a watch, he bought a deep freezer
Fuck around and put a heat-seeker on my streetsweeper
I let her roll shakе out the 'bow, I told her dig deeper
Droppеd a mixtape, it was weak, he bought six features
The hardest bully out the whole litter, this lil' bitch a keeper
[Verse 2: KrispyLife Kidd]
Got some hoes throwin' B's and some extra shit
LDG get excited when that Visa hit
Knock a slice of your head on the ground, you a piece of snitch
Smack a nigga with a bottle in the club, made him eat a fifth
Hm, ain't nobody doin' disrespect
Pop a nigga in his club clothes, he done died in drip
Where you goin', my nigga? You just put five on six
And the hoes say you don't really crack, you be lyin' on dick
Off-White, Pradas, or some Diors
Blew the opps' crib up under the porch with some C4
Nah, hit his block heavy shit, leave the street sore
Hit four bitches in the past two days, now my meat sore
[Verse 3: YSR Gramz & KrispyLife Kidd]
I ain't finna sell the whole 'bow, I'm finna keep four
I just punched a dyke in her mouth, I made her meet floor
You wanna be a man, don't you?
I just bought a Glock with a switch, it had a fan on it
He finna slide with a TEC, I swear to God, it's gon' jam on him
Dog had a white tee on, now it got red on it
[Verse 4: YSR Gramz]
The opps always live in the crib, so we slid on it
Bro hit this lil' bitch first, I got dibs on her
I can't get her pregnant, pull out and put my kids on her
Broke-ass nigga, you ain't shit if you ain't no crib owner
Did a verse and paid twelve hundred dollars for these Rick Owens
Booked us for a show, in the contract, we got sticks on us
I'm tryna get my whole gang rich, I'm like Rich Homie
I always had a bag, I ain't never had no big homie
Bitch out here fuckin' the whole city, you gon' lick on her
If the bitch on fire, I wouldn't piss on her
(You're not making this easy, Kyle)
[Verse 1: YSR Gramz]
My nigga said he wanna make it out the hood, I told him it ain't easy
I'm a motherfuckin' ghetto boy, but I ain't with Peezy
He got seven fake chains on, his whole neck cheesy
My nigga fuckin' with that snow like he know Jeezy
Seventy-five dollars for an eighth, I don't smoke Breezy
She ain't let me fuck when I came over, this bitch keep teasin'
A nigga reached for a chain, made him meet Jesus
Brodie spent forty on a watch, he bought a deep freezer
Fuck around and put a heat-seeker on my streetsweeper
I let her roll shakе out the 'bow, I told her dig deeper
Droppеd a mixtape, it was weak, he bought six features
The hardest bully out the whole litter, this lil' bitch a keeper
[Verse 2: KrispyLife Kidd]
Got some hoes throwin' B's and some extra shit
LDG get excited when that Visa hit
Knock a slice of your head on the ground, you a piece of snitch
Smack a nigga with a bottle in the club, made him eat a fifth
Hm, ain't nobody doin' disrespect
Pop a nigga in his club clothes, he done died in drip
Where you goin', my nigga? You just put five on six
And the hoes say you don't really crack, you be lyin' on dick
Off-White, Pradas, or some Diors
Blew the opps' crib up under the porch with some C4
Nah, hit his block heavy shit, leave the street sore
Hit four bitches in the past two days, now my meat sore
[Verse 3: YSR Gramz & KrispyLife Kidd]
I ain't finna sell the whole 'bow, I'm finna keep four
I just punched a dyke in her mouth, I made her meet floor
You wanna be a man, don't you?
I just bought a Glock with a switch, it had a fan on it
He finna slide with a TEC, I swear to God, it's gon' jam on him
Dog had a white tee on, now it got red on it
[Verse 4: YSR Gramz]
The opps always live in the crib, so we slid on it
Bro hit this lil' bitch first, I got dibs on her
I can't get her pregnant, pull out and put my kids on her
Broke-ass nigga, you ain't shit if you ain't no crib owner
Did a verse and paid twelve hundred dollars for these Rick Owens
Booked us for a show, in the contract, we got sticks on us
I'm tryna get my whole gang rich, I'm like Rich Homie
I always had a bag, I ain't never had no big homie
Bitch out here fuckin' the whole city, you gon' lick on her
If the bitch on fire, I wouldn't piss on her
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