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young m.a - check lyrics

[verse 1]
counting all this money with the pain’s
counting all this money with the pain’s
counting all this money with the pain’s
fresh up off the plane
now look at all these b-tch n-gg-s hating, looking sour
broke boys talking, making minimum a hour
two bad jaws, backseat of my sonata
light skin, brown skin, hennessy colada
got a couple shooters that ain’t talking, they just pop up
a couple rowdy n-gg-s that ain’t scared to throw they block up
bet i won’t murder all these rappers, put your gwap up
[?] with the line up
tryna get your fame up
p-ssy get your bank up
lame dyk-s tryna use my name to get they name up
making with your main chick and that p-ssy laid up
yeah, i got a big strap, i f-ck her her brains up
then i take her in the kitchen, that coochie dripping
shorty got that fat cat and that p-ssy hissing
when we done i make a cooking, she clean them dishes
then she go back home to her n-gg- until she miss it
now look at all these punk n-gg-s
no money, [?] n-gg-s
we everywhere like some pumps n-gg-
i’m in her stomach like some tumms n-gg-
shot out my bloods and my cuz n-gg-s
them thug n-gg-s
them hustlers that hustle for them funds n-gg-
two of my b-tches they get it, they in them clubs with us
cause we throwing this money [?] us

[hook]
f-cking with the set
cause they know we up next
[verse 2]
now look at all these dyk- b-tches hating, looking sour
i beef with being broke, cause b-tch i’m ’bout a dollar
all my pistol, always c-cked and i pop it like a collar
they love me then they hate me, god d-mn make your mind up
then they on my d-ck, they on my d-ck, they on my d-ck
[?] suck coming n-gg-, blow the grip
do my shmoney dance, ah ah, hit the diddy bop
and i don’t really dance but i will still hit that milly rock
i flame it like a hot pot
[?] hot box
with funk flex on that hot 9
sh-t i been busy like a hotline
f-cking with me, now the knot mine
i got 10 jobs, i don’t get tired
shot out to fox tryna get me on that empire
and first i had to turn down, wasn’t up the par
cause it’s young m.a , b-tch f-ck is betty bar
high seaters [?] calling
i met lee dames at swizz’s office
a whole room full of bosses
making a young b-tch feel important
i swear y’all don’t make no sense
so, all the haters thanks for hating and promoting my sh-t
i got more views, more hoes to choose
more money, new car, more cloths and shoes
doing shows in dc or [?]
and i know you see me on revolt tv
got legends in the game bringing me on stage
got the crowd nuts like a f-cking parade
girls p-ss-es get wet just from touching my braids
i rep redlyfe and i don’t give a f-ck what you claim
forget the summer, i’m taking over the rest of the years
i’m ’bout to make it real rough like n-gg-s with beards
all i know is be tough, i don’t know how to fear
yeah they talk tough but i never believe what i hear
to beat me, you gon’ need a full [?] of prayer
f-ck a bag [?] with my feet in the air
and i dare a thot b-tch tryna get in her bag
i make her get out my car and make her get in the cab
being broke ain’t a joke, but i’m paid so i laughed
my -ss to the bank, get money don’t hate n-gg-

- young m a lyrics

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