tribal young brown - end game lyrics
[intro]
(pro viib beats)
[verse 1]
i drop bags on these f+ck n+ggas heads, i want ’em dead
call up the funeral home, tell ’em put ’em in the bed
put ’em in a pine box, you know, the kind that don’t lock
ain’t no comin’ back after your ass get popped
hit him with a head shot, after he seen a red dot
witnesses called the cops after they seen the body drop (911, what’s your emergency?)
just another dead opp, laid out on the block
i can pay a n+gga two k to come and get your ass any day
so don’t f+ckin’ play with the tribe that way
i can fly to dr and send you to see god
so sh+t, i guеss we can both travel pretty far (uh+huh)
don’t play with thе tribe unless you’re ready to die
i’ll hop in a ride, tell them n+ggas to slide
and then put on a suit and tie just to watch your mama cry (that’s f+cked up)
i went to new york today, i was really lookin’ for jay
i told him i need another beat made, another n+gga done played (uh+huh)
it’s a nice rainy day for a n+gga to get slain
i’m okay, n+gga, don’t look at me that way (f+ck you looking at?)
he got caught in the jetta, guess he didn’t like the weather
it’s okay, in his next life he’ll, n+gga, do better (maybe he will)
i’ma violate the sh+t out of a n+gga if he come outside
trust me, n+gga when i say ain’t gon’ be no peaceful vibes
the only thing i really know is how to commit crimes
i’ma push a n+gga off a bridge to see if he can fly
[interlude]
i’m telling you, man
these n+ggas be thinking they the illest sh+t out
or they the hottest rapper out and sh+t
but in reality, it’s not
so when n+ggas come to me talking to me crazy
nah, man, don’t even, don’t even do it, n+gga
[verse 2]
f+ck you, n+gga, don’t even f+ckin’ ask me why
i’ma hit the n+gga mello up and tell him about some sh+t (uh+huh)
he just gonna respond, “come on, n+gga”
“you already know how we motherf+ckin’ get it in” (you already know, n+gga)
it should be a sin, the way that i use my pen
rackin’ up streams, come on, thank you, come again
i’m tyb, i don’t give a f+ck if you don’t know me
it’s okay, i’ma let my stats speak for me anyway
every time i get in the booth, the world know i’m the truth
you lie in your rhymes, n+gga, that’s why they don’t f+ck with you (yep)
tribal brown murdered that beat, yeah, i told jay
i’ma make the world wanna f+ck with you today (real)
this is the end, let me put down my pen
until the next time you hear a pro viib beat, rewind it and play it again (uh+huh)
[outro]
roovet music
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