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yfg fatso - tweakers freestyle lyrics

[intro]
yeah, yeah (b+tch)
yeah, come on (b+tch)
yeah, come on (b+tch)
come on

[chorus]
drill scene, brought it back, everybody on gang sh+t, look at the n+ggas who you hang with (b+tch)
broad day, we’ll clap any n+gga and brain twist, after the hits, we gon’ lane switch (brrt, brrt, brrt, brrt, b+tch)
call the city iraq, we was born in chiraq, this the home of the devils, we flame sh+t (b+tch)
every day, n+ggas hustle and spill make blood splatter, we wakin’ up to the same sh+t (b+tch)
me and bro gettin’ rich, puttin’ thirties in gl!cks, jumpin’ out, givin’ n+ggas that bang kit
hoodie’s on and my gloves and you know i’m skied up, walkin’ through a cut, i’m on some gang sh+t (b+tch)
when you look at my book, i ain’t comin’ like them, still with everybody i came with
rest in peace to my members, lil’ doit, i miss you, you know the 8 still keep your name lit

[verse]
took it back with some old sh+t, feelin’ like durk in ’13, no, this ain’t what you want, b+tch (b+tch)
smokin’ n+ggas who love yellin’ loud on my name, but i’m smooth, i ain’t focused on old sh+t (b+tch, b+tch, b+tch, b+tch)
duffle bag with some money, i forgot i had you on band, i’ma give her an old strip (b+tch)
colored wood on the drac’, got this b+tch for the 8, lil dee callin’ like, “go, let me hold it” (b+tch, b+tch, b+tch, b+tch)
i’m gettin’ rich and i’m not stressin’ over no b+tch, i got the larger amounts, i can’t fold it (b+tch)
some n+ggas p+ssed, tell the ones i don’t like eat a d+ck, i ain’t never been out on no ho sh+t (b+tch)
if i’m slidin’, i’m takin’ me two in the whip, i know one, i’ma empty the whole clip (b+tch)
still got like thirty+four shots in the binary chop, let them get on my side, i’ma fold it (b+tch)
p+ssy, i’m in the real chiraq, real junky, i stopped takin’ pills like that (b+tch)
them who do know be like, “chill, so strapped, y’all the reapers, i see why y’all like that” (b+tch)
heard they lost four and they still ain’t get back, they be standin’ outside, they don’t wanna get back (b+tch)
n+gga, i got a florida wrap, talked to bro, said he got the florida packs
yeah, big+ass yawk with the holder up under the drum, you controllin’ the kick (brrt)
always do too much to get here, thinkin’ ’bout chris, he the reason i turned it to this (f+ck them n+ggas, man)
she might go anyway, catch a n+gga, he baked, i ain’t never take pics in the fit (b+tch)
drill time, we suitin’ up to go slide on them n+ggas, get in, you can’t be on no b+tch sh+t
alright, i’m on some rich sh+t, she on some turn lil’ go to her pimp sh+t (i ain’t spendin’ no money)
he on some trick sh+t, bought her a bag, but i wasn’t on no simp sh+t (b+tch)
i been high as the f+ck, i did it enough, told bro that i think i’ma quit this
know i offer them bread, but they losin’ they head, my lil’ shotty stay sendin’ from switches (ah)
[chorus]
drill scene, brought it back, everybody on gang sh+t, look at the n+ggas who you hang with (b+tch)
broad day, we’ll clap any n+gga and brain twist, after the hits, we gon’ lane switch (brrt, brrt, brrt, brrt, b+tch)
call the city iraq, we was born in chiraq, this the home of the devils, we flame sh+t (b+tch)
every day, n+ggas hustle and spill make blood splatter, we wakin’ up to the same sh+t (b+tch)
me and bro gettin’ rich, puttin’ thirties in gl!cks, jumpin’ out, givin’ n+ggas that bang kit
hoodie’s on and my gloves and you know i’m skied up, walkin’ through a cut, i’m on some gang sh+t (b+tch)
when you look at my book, i ain’t comin’ like them, still with everybody i came with
rest in peace to my members, lil’ doit, i miss you, you know the 8 still keep your name lit

- yfg fatso lyrics

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