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yatta - lethal weapon lyrics

[verse 1: dexkrueger]
look, field trips, not in fifth grade, but i take those
been on quite a few in my time, i plan to take more
check the score, n0body on your side known to let it blow
but get up on the ‘net and try to boast, you know how that sh-t go
duck and roll, when i come through you better duck and roll
if you don’t, it’s consequences, you get your pumpkin scoped
beef with me, more consequences, you get your cousin smoked
who said i’m broke? boy, that must’ve been a f-ckin’ joke
i don’t go broke, i just hit the field and got me another loaf
and said i was done tryna pimp, went and found another ho
went down for the bip, but i went and bopped another load
two straps, dressed like jehovah in front your mother door
it’s treacherous, grab them super soakers and get to drenchin’ sh-t
my n-gga got them bodies, cold k!ller but never mentioned it
you let the b-tch go ’cause she’s a ho, but you still miss the b-tch
d-ck down your b-tch throat and your b-tch swallowed, i watched you kiss the b-tch
stupid lil’ human
you know the main code and you still told, why you do it?
you see me, you keep it movin’
free them innocent three who went down for that shootin’, n-gga

[interlude: dexkrueger]
ayy, look, man, i wasn’t even gon’ keep it lit, man
ayy, look, i was gon’ let you n-ggas breathe
i was gon’ take my foot off you n-ggas’ necks, man
but my n-ggas told me keep this sh-t rockin’
so i’ma keep this sh-t rockin’ for my n-ggas, man
ayy, look, look

[verse 2: dexkrueger]
i said i’m back in, if he try to run, blow his back in
knock his head off his shoulders, got him lookin’ like he pac-man
i just stacked ten, in a minute i might start trappin’
i ain’t never been to green bay, but you know i run that pack in
mop, mop, mop
that’s the sound of that thang when i’m yankin’ on that chop
he pilin’ thirty, thirty shots
f-ck that lil’ thirty stick, this fn came twenty stock
when he seen it, he was amazed, this b-tch’ll blow him out his socks
already ate today, but get to chewin’ at the opps
and i’m a n-gga with a bag, that’s everything you n-ggas not
and all that hollywood actin’, boy, that sh-t had better stop
’cause i ain’t actin’ with the glock, i get active with the glock
send that b-tch and shoot it this way, i got tackles with the glock
plus i’m mr. keep-stick, and i’m known to keep a glock
but this baby xd came brand nookie out the box

[verse 3: yatta]
brand nookie out the box, n-ggas shootin’ down the block
broad day, trynna leave a n-gga kufi on they block
n-gga, i ain’t ’bout to box, whip it out, let off some shots
n-ggas f-ckin’ with the opps, playin’ both sides’ll get him popped
slide to the trap, me and nick hit for twenty cash
we was already up ten, that’s twenty thousand, do the math
i got b-tches shakin’ -ss, i like b-tches with no cl-ss
and i’m player as f-ck, baby, i won’t trip, you f-ck my mans
that don’t mean i ain’t tryna f-ck, b-tch, i still wanna stab
put my finger in her b-tt while she in the three-point stance
she know the word to every song, guess i’m finna f-ck my fan
and her sister dig me too, so i’ma keep it in the fam’
we just bipped another load, sticky chicky had them band bands
we just kicked another door, sticky chicky had them gram grams
b-tch, i always play the field, i ain’t never in the d-mn stands
b-tch, i had h-lla cases, i ain’t never took the d-mn stand
b-tch, it’s the don dada, i’ma stand on what i said
n-gga, i ain’t squashin’ sh-t, i ain’t throwin’ no white flags
n-gga play, get him bagged, in the pen’, i get him stabbed
these n-ggas really think i’m a rapper, better check my street cred’
before i was known for a verse, i was gettin’ n-ggas stepped on
found the n-gga who k!lled my brother, sh-t, y’all know how the rest go
gun sh-lls in his face, give a f-ck he had a vest on
n-gga, this no cap, i ain’t just rhyming for no d-mn song, n-gga (for real, n-gga)

[interlude: yatta]
for real, n-gga
we been steppin’ on n-ggas, n-gga
this sh-t ain’t new

[verse 4: yatta]
i run that sack in
chase a n-gga down, blow his back in
just left harry potter in the ‘nolia, i’m in the point ditching pac-man
white people on my d-ck, they hate a young paid black man
they know i’m fightin’ in the ‘jects, i keep a gun, can’t let ’em jack me
knock, knock, knock
that’s me knockin’ on your door before i’m breaking in your spot
you hollerin’ thirty, thirty shots
f-ck that lil’ thirty stick, i threw a drummy on this chop
when we slide, we want a homi’, even the driver bouncin’ out
b-tch, my n-ggas known k!llers, we known for chasin’ n-ggas down
give two f-cks who get hit, b-tch, i’m airin’ out the crowd
b-tch, i’m really with the sh-ts, go everywhere i’m not allowed
doin’ donuts in the six-speed, turn the ‘jects to a sideshow
n-gga, i ain’t hard to find, but i’m hard to k!ll, i keep that fire on
i’m in traffic with that static, i ain’t duckin’ sh-t but five-o
got used to that bag, account -ssault him with a blindfold
that n-gga really don’t want no body, n-gga shootin’ with his eyes closed
‘fore you reach for this chain, you need to think, this somethin’ to die for?

[outro: yatta]
n-gga
for real, n-gga
yeah
free the thugs, n-gga

- yatta lyrics

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