a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

ygo steppa - baccend lyrics

[intro: ygo steppa]
i like this one, will
ayy, ayy, gang, gang
ayy, gang, gang, ygo

[verse 1: ygo steppa]
see the gang, take your chain, grab a heater
i’m a wet his -ss up, preacher
serving 3, 4, 5, leases
we gon step on his side, sneakers
i got stripes in the game, adidas
when you mention my name, speak up (n-gg-)
put the heat on his -ss, he gon heat up
and lil bro finna ride, push his seat up
he get put on a shirt if he try me
he just running his lips, kylie (jenner)
mac-11 my hip, kyrie
we just hit a lick, spicy (hot)
we pull up shoot it up, spike lee
my chain ain’t getting sn-tched, unlikely (on god)
i stay with them parts, o’ reilly
and i’m getting this check, nike (gang)
she eat up the d-ck, riley (reid)
put the stick on the glick, tightly (gang)
i pull up and aim, precisely (bow)
do the dash in the whip, high speed

[verse 2: ygo spiffy]
every n-gg- in the stoop caught a body
like a tag on a tweet come try me
pull up to the party with my posse (my gang)
whole gang we rock out, we off a roxy (off a roxy)
f-ck n-gg- play get popped like a molly
roll the bricks out on a dolly
put some red on his lips like kylie (kylie)
can’t leave the crib with no glocky
we gon pull up with some fayzos
n-gg- play dead i’m squeezing like play-do (squeeze)
don’t question me, whatever i say go
your b-tch a slave, she do what i say so
and i’m having sauce like prego (prego)
your b-tch ate my taki, she say that sh-t fuego
you would think i’m a vato, ho i keep them pesos
i got 7 feet cause i got everyday ho

[verse 3: gucciboymelv]
i swear that she deep into rap (on god)
you talk like you bout it, you cap (you p-ssy)
my n-gg-s got shooters in check
if you play with a n-gg-, they busting yo -ss (on gang)
stop selling your sh-t out, you trash (fa sho)
jugging hard just to get to the cash (ayyy)
b-tch i’m hot and i’m all in my bag
don’t care if they like me, i’m showing my -ss
make it freeze, when i pop out that glizzy
them bullets gon clip him like we playing tag (oof oof)
and your b-tch steady tripping
she wanna get wit me but all i had do is his neck
make him look like a dummy, when we gotta slide out
my n-gg-s always gon crack
and when i get rich and i’m counting my bank
me and gang finna pop out some tags
bring out the heat like the summer
big body n-gg-, no hummer (on god)
you ain’t touching gwop that’s a b-mmer
my n-gg-s gon kiss it like hunnids
we getting that jelly, no smuckers (yes sir)
i’m busting your ho down, no rubbers
she sucking my d-ck undercovers
we sliding rush hour, chris tucker

- ygo steppa lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS