s a s - why try lyrics
mayhem:
you know, yeah
s.a.s., streets all salute, jr writer
dutch beetz, yeah
we the beegees
verse 1
s.a.s.:
mega:
i’ve been patient fam
stuck in this crazy land
where men’ll lick your head off your shoulders so they
could make a grand
mayhem:
no snitchin’, naw, i’m ’bout to take a stand
my chopper gets to spit and you fakin’, it’s finna make
da band
mega:
no safety, blow like it’s a.c.
call me bird’s-eye, you heard why, i make p’s
i’m about the wealth
so i need a range rover that’s named after a book
that’s about myself
mayhem:
and it’s over doja
when i flip and put the razors to your face i ain’t
talkin’ ’bout a motorola
big stings, no you won’t clap back at us
i’ll have your whole strip runnin’ like they tryna
catch a bus
mega:
oh, you sellin’ drugs
you can get your melon slugged
then get swept off of your feet like you fell in love
i can fight but the guns preferred
we them dipset thunderbirds, now watch me rain on ’em
hook
s.a.s.:
why try, you’re gonna die
i pull up in a drop with the pistol c-cked
when i pop, i’m wavin’ bye-bye
you don’t drive-by, all you do is drive by
they call us byrdgang, you heard fam
we fly high
(repeat)
verse 2
jr writer:
my, my, i’m sky high, a fly guy
pull up to your b-tch, and skate wit’ a whip from
sp-ce, i’m talkin’ sci-fi
why try to out-do me, i doubt truly
listen, j is a ape, so stay in your place, i ain’t
never been a slouch scooby
listen, you’re not as sharp, i’m getting’ that gwap to
start (ch-ching)
you ain’t seen bigger m’s since the mcdonald’s are
these gangstas pop your heart in front of your b-tch
then turn and look at her like “who you coming with
miss”
you’re my son, get the drift
so right now i’ll be dissing myself if i called you a
son of a b-tch (oh)
give it up for the dips (why)
cuz it seems so simple (what)
that i’m so sick like a ne-yo single
i will blast ’em, leave ’em in a casket box
sleepin’ with the saddest ock for leapin’ like a
astronaut
keep the techs sucka
so i don’t care if your pops married my mother
i dare you to step brother
hook
s.a.s.:
why try, you’re gonna die
i pull up in a drop with the pistol c-cked
when i pop, i’m wavin’ bye-bye
you don’t drive-by, all you do is drive by
they call us byrdgang, you heard fam
we fly high
(repeat)
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