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 #

ying yang twins - dispose of brawdz lyrics

i don’t give a f-ck about these n-ggas or these hoes
don’t you ever, don’t you ever
make me spit on yo -ss b-tch!!! ahh-ha

verse one:

f-ck them hoes, let ’em bounce
known for kickin’ b-tches out
all they wanna do is sneak a blunt or two out ya ounce
try to help us, with a plan guard yo grill and watch yo back
b-tches known for showin’ other n-gga’s where you kick it at
might be a hard head, might be a soldier thug
with a b-tch got him sick, if he a sucker for love b-tch
his n-gga’s better show him who unified
to get respect you got to play, watch them hoes step aside
b-tch! i’m just like you
b-tch! i smoke weed to
b-tch! i need gee’z so look
b-tch! i don’t need you all y’all can suck my
i don’t give a f-ck! die! now b-tch bye!
you blowin’ my high!

chorus:

i love myself, i hug myself an if
i had a p-ssy i f-ck myself
see real -ss n-ggas don’t fold or fall
in them all black clothes i dispose of brawdz

now who in the h-ll came here to stop me
i’m in the party ballin with my posse ah-ha-ha
now who the h-ll can they get to stop me
i’m in the projects ballin with my posse ah-ha-ha
{2x}

verse two:

f-ck these n-ggas who dropped me on my head
when i was younger, i did some wild sh-t
to make these n-gga’s wonder
am i craze, or am i straight sick
round with these f-ckin’ lunatic’s
you talk sh-t! you get yo wig split!
if you wanna try me!
you must be ready to die b-tch!
i ain’t scared to die b-tch!
ya see it’s just a hobby!
by god-given talent i was gave from my birth
i couldn’t let the sh-t go to waist
i had to put this sh-t to work
i’m just a ghetto -ss n-gga!
with the street knowledge i was gave!
you try to play it brave, can you outrun a f-ckin 12 gauge?
h-ll nah! hit a tree, had to go help him up
you shouldn’t have never f-cked up!
now you lookin’ f-cked up!
blew his head clean off his shoulder
i was all ready gone, before anybody showed up
got away clean, like some jean’s when you wash ’em
trill -ss soldier’s ain’t no way you can stop us b-tch!

chorus

verse three:

i be bustin’ nut’s on yo baby mama, baby head
why you be gangster, somebody got ’em keep ’em fed
when i fed to the point where i be bakin’ bread
i mean fed to the point where i be servin’ head
now look, that don’t mean i’m try’na sound bad and sh-t
when i stab that trick, you can have the b-tch
grab yo b-tch, you need to try to train yo b-tch
tame yo b-tch, cuz she be runnin’ game ya b-tch
now you all in a n-gga grill, lookin’ all swole
picturin’ how ya slipped off, trustin’ in them hoes
no d-mn well, that yo mom taught ya better cuz
a b-tch will get’cha k!lled if ya let her
that’s why i love myself, i hug myself an if
i had a p-ssy i f-ck myself
see real -ss n-gga’s don’t fold to fold
hit the mall buyin’ clothes i dispose of broadz

chorus

verse four:

punk sh-t got me livin on edge
ballin’ keep my artillery
gangsta so i’m in the midst of sh-t
cap pilla i’m known for spittin’ on b-tches
disrespectin’ my mind, try’na play me soft and
at the same time b-tch, you f-ckin’ with some atl soldiers
smokin for free, and drinkin with me h-ll nah
first ya got to take yo m-th-f-ckin’ draw’s off
cuz real player’s bout to lay the law down
you better draw the straw now, you done
f-cked up’ed now!
this how we do it in the a-t-l
for them hoes who think they p-ssy fire -ss h-ll
got a game for that -ss big d-ck’s to match
don’t have time for them hoes, who be try’na act
ha do it! get ’em shorty get ’em we ain’t playin’ with ’em
if you glock ’em, n-gga spit ’em (n-gga spit em!)
stupid -ss hoes, be try’na act
but they switch up, b-tch up and call ya back
say what?
stuipd -ss hoes be try’na act
but they switch up, and b-tch up and call ya back
say what?
stuipd -ss hoes be try’na act
but they switch up, and b-tch up and call ya back
and we! shake them hoes off what!
shake them hoes off! what! shake them hoes off what!
n-gga! shake them hoes off! what! shake them hoes off what!
shake them hoes off! what! shake them hoes off! my n-gga
shake them hoes off

n-gga we ain’t got no love for these hoes
these b-tches swtich d-ck’s like outfit’s
hoes, ya need to find another route
figure that a n-gga be thugged out
and we off in the club

- ying yang twins lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS