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yfg fatso - princeton prayer lyrics

[intro]
come on, yeah, come on, yeah, come on
frr, come on, come on (fox, you comin’ brazy, brother, big drills)
yeah, it’s goski, n+gga, yeah, yeah
8 block, princeton, you know how the f+ck we
you know how we make sh+t bleed, it’s only reaps in here
walk that down, come on, come on

[chorus]
real sh+t, don’t know what’s up to these n+ggas (come on), you know what you know, i don’t f+ck with you n+ggas (come on, come on)
gotta keep clappin’ ’til everybody dead on they side, we ain’t collect enough of them n+ggas (come on, come on)
n+ggas be constantly sendin’ them hoes for the lo’, i ain’t finna go out gettin’ jiggy (i ain’t goin’ like that)
no competition, i know i’m the best on the road, now it’s time that i stomp on you n+ggas (yeah)
we k!lled a bunch of them n+ggas, the white van man, we touchin’ on n+ggas (come on)
too many hoes in my messages, i won’t text her, i don’t feel like f+ckin’ them b+tches (aw, aw, aw, man)
half the block got switches, the other side got them ars with sixty (frr, frr)
roll it, fire this b+tch up, i’m chokin’
too many militants, strapped up drillers (come on, come on)

[verse]
demon too much on my feet, i was gettin’ sh+t to sleep, i don’t rap ’bout k!llings
redrum once you get with ’em, i’m heavy on standin’ on business, you heard me clearly (yup)
the contact heavy and reap ‘nem ready, a new strand, puffin’ them n+ggas (come on, come on)
comparin’ me to a n+gga who stuck in the streets, i could never be none of them n+ggas
bail out boy, chase sh+t down, runnin’ and holdin’ my breath, tryna clap and get wild
all hot sh+t, never mild, fatso ain’t tryin’ for real and it’s been a lil’ while (okay)
i put them n+ggas in style, usin’ my name for a clout chase, tryna get ’round (okay)
my newest opps was fans, hate when a n+gga can’t cl!ck, so they try tearin’ down (okay, okay, okay)
it’s all contact, my real beef go beyond that, my favorite opp just got wild (come on)
‘member them tellin’ me i’ll be dead in a week, been some months and i made it around, okay (come on, come on)
f+ck everybody who clowned me, i’m way richer, so now who a clown? (come on)
digits and digits inside my account for my children, play, i’ma burn up the town (aw, man)
i don’t f+ck with the tongue, i’m big time spank it, the opps gotta get this belt
drivin’ this whip two hundred, i keep on flushin’, bae i’m tryna k!ll myself (come on, come on)
i did this sh+t on my own with no help or alone, i ain’t gotta pay n0body else (i ain’t gotta pay)
we put the sun on a n+gga from two feet back, when he felt it, he had to melt
i don’t really care what they said, i know what he did, i promise you they need help (i promise they do)
i’ll put a b+tch on a market, the f+ck am i cuffin’ up hoes who i put on the shelf? (who i just put up)
f+ck on her friends, they hate it ’cause sh+t that i did, make her wanna k!ll herself (f+ck them hoes)
internet trolls be fed, but my opps dead, you better come try it yourself (come on)
you want it? come get it, lil’ n+gga (come on)
i never put straps in my picture (i don’t)
i never f+ck hoes off liquor (nah), i’m definitely bendin’ sh+t over on sprinter (i am)
i tell cuz to chill, he just wanna k!ll, said he tryna blind a n+gga (frr, frr)
not yet, i’m still on papers, we chillin’, let me get back to my hood and children
i see a n+gga i don’t like, he know it’s on sight, i give a hand raise with it (i raise it up)
they do the job, i don’t ask ’em, they know i love them, foenem forever stay with me (come on)
security got his fifty, a bulletproof vest, and a bulletproof black truck, n+gga
no way, inhale the smoke, i can feel it, i think that twenty inside me itchin’
[chorus]
real sh+t, don’t know what’s up to these n+ggas (yeah), you know what you know, i don’t f+ck with you n+ggas (come on, come on)
gotta keep clappin’ ’til everybody dead on they side, we ain’t collect enough of them n+ggas (come on, come on)
n+ggas be constantly sendin’ them hoes for the lo’, i ain’t finna go out gettin’ jiggy (i ain’t goin’ like that)
no competition, i know i’m the best on the road, now it’s time that i stomp on you n+ggas (yeah)
we k!lled a bunch of them n+ggas, the white van man, we touchin’ on n+ggas (touchin’ on n+ggas)
too many hoes in my messages, i won’t text her, i don’t feel like f+ckin’ them b+tches (loaded)
half the block got switches, the other side got them ars with sixty (frr, frr)
roll it, fire this b+tch up, i’m chokin’
too many militants, strapped up drillers

- yfg fatso lyrics

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