young drummer boy – double up lyrics
(chorus) (young drummer boy)
why you trippin on a b#tch, homie double up, why you d#gg#n on yo clique, homie double up
why you f#ckin with a snitch, homie double up, why you talkin all that sh#t, homie double up [×2]
(verse 1) (young drummer boy)
i got money got green, but i break bread with my team (yeah)
yeah i came from the drop you can frame that, same block where i really got my name at
you say you was a g, you lyin, you ain’t in the field homie you can keep tryin
see i’m tryna come up on some green backs
if you need a feature, lil homie i need 3 racks
see i don’t f#ck with no b#tches, leave no trace i don’t leave no witness
tryna get rich with my whole team, 40 on the waist lil glock with that red beam
(chorus) (young drummer boy)
why you trippin on a b#tch, homie double up, why you d#gg#n on yo clique, homie double up
why you f#ckin with a snitch, homie double up, why you talkin all that sh#t, homie double up [×2]
(verse 2) (rucci)
(ayy, ayy) ayy we finna call the play my n#ggas huddle up
in and off the interstate we finna run it up, he talking all that sh#t but he ain’t good enough
lil rucci gon hop up out that hummer truck, i’m a blood i pop pills out my mind n#gga, ayy free dadon from the north, that my sign n#gga
ayy this ain’t sh#t we take trips all the time, if we don’t like em we in a party shoot it up like columbine
(ayy, ayy) ayy they told me double up, so ima double back, i’m on my bullsh#t like big brother mack
(ayy) they shootin in the air, b#tch we bussin back
we double up, can’t f#ck with us and that’s a f#cking fact
(chorus) (young drummer boy)
why you trippin on a b#tch, homie double up, why you d#gg#n on yo clique, homie double up
why you f#ckin with a snitch, homie double up, why you talkin all that sh#t, homie double up [×2]
(verse 3)
see all i want is dead men flockin, homies where i’m from don’t do much talkin
yeah i make some money off the curb, but it ain’t enough man that sh#t is for the birds
free my lil homies doing time, sh#t really hurts man i really can’t lie
all f#ckas mad, cause i’m stackin up money, they only get mad cause i ain’t no dummy
drive around with the 40 on the seat, b#tch in the back, lil homies on the creed
(ayy) they dont want a g to make a move on em, i’m gettin money motherf#cker so i cruise on em
(chorus) (young drummer boy)
why you trippin on a b#tch, homie double up, why you d#gg#n on yo clique, homie double up
why you f#ckin with a snitch, homie double up, why you talkin all that sh#t, homie double up [×2]
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