yn jay & rmc mike – drake n josh lyrics
[intro: yn jay]
(lorenz, don’t stop)
yeah
yeah
yeah, yeah
you know what i’m sayin’? you gotta understand, man
like i’m gettin’ tired of sayin’ the same sh+t over and you not under—
d+mn
[verse 1: yn jay]
tired of sayin’ the same sh+t and you still don’t get it
lil’ freak b+tch probably got the best p+ssy in the world, but i still won’t hit it
’cause that b+tch be f+ckin’ everybody in the motherf+ckin’ city, what the f+ck?
b+tch f+cked everybody in every hood
even if i tried to teach this b+tch the game, she still won’t get it
even if i tried to airball, sh+t, i still won’t miss it
tried to tell your ass ten times, you still don’t get it
[interlude: yn jay]
n+gga, i tried to teach you over and over and over, n+gga
you must not be listening
[verse 2: yn jay]
you don’t listen when i’m speakin’, sh+t, i’m done talkin’
‘member when i bought my first car like, “i’m done walkin'”
ten grams in a backwood got the lungs coughin’
if it’s up there, it’s stuck there, now the guns talkin’
ayy, now the guns barkin’
i done smoked a whole pound of motherf+ckin’ coochie runtz, got the lungs talkin’
n+gga out here rappin’ just like me, that’s my son chartin’
n+gga thought i had a pitbull, that’s my son barkin’
[verse 3: rmc mike]
n+gga thought i had the bubble guts, that’s my gun fartin’
six hoes came here for me, this my son party
battery dead on my old+school, gotta jumpstart it
okay, you dropped a tape, but sick as h+ll ’cause it’s uncharted
you can’t walk in without a strap, this a gun party
drink a fifth and rap my ass off, i’m a drunk artist
d+mn, i think his blood starvin’
took an ar from my lieutenant, i’m like, “what up, sergeant?”
lil’ bro scammin’ like a b+tch, he blew up target
he made it big doin’ a song with us, we blew up artist
you think i’m lyin’, you can ask the n+gga
i need my b+tch hard to find like an action figure
sick as h+ll lil’ bro just went to jail for racketeering
my white boy f+cked up, he went home and tried to whack his parents
[interlude: rmc mike]
d+mn, like
nah, like, you really went home and tried to k!ll your parents?
f+ck be wrong with these n+ggas?
[verse 4: rmc mike]
i don’t get it
but if i’m starin’ at your b+tch, then i hit it
i got a thing for poppin’ percs and f+ckin’ fine women
oh, she don’t like fat n+ggas, bet i change her mind in it
i hit her hard and bust fast, couldn’t waste no time in it
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