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young pappy - freestyle (pt. 1) lyrics

[intro]
come on, aye
what’s up, what’s up?
y’all know how we rocking, man
pooh bear gang, man
tfg, it’s the f-cking guys, man, in my f-cking eyes, man!
we out here, man

aye, you hear me?
i’ma go crazy one time, you say

[freestyle]

i’m on the ‘well, where they raise h-ll at
i caught a lil’ gun case so i fell back
boy i’m respected in the ‘hood, you can tell that
we post up by the store where that l at
and if a n-gga want smoke, i’ll smoke him
and if he holding and i know it, i’ll poke him
i got money, got chips like hold ’em
them big guns got poles like totem
they don’t be getting what i’m saying cause i’m cold as f-ck
i’m from the chi, north pole, where it’s cold as f-ck
i got shorties ready to shoot that ain’t old enough
shorties fighting a body but they told too much
this ak-seven fo’, it be folding up
i smoke that loud pack when i’m rolling up
i got a tec, wet a n-gga from his toes and up
he want battle? i don’t think a n-gga bold enough
too much fear in his heart, he ain’t brave at all
hair triggers on the forty, can’t shave it all
designer, italy d-mn near made it all
he got him whacked as soon as my bro made the call
he like who? buddy -ss acting kinda’ stupid
he like a’ight, so where he at? when you trynna’ do it?
boy it’s real in the field, sh-t ain’t you n-ggas foolish
abm, f-ck is that? you n-ggas better stick to hooping!
i be all up in the ‘hood, all the guys show me love
all the bros shake my hand, all the hoes give me hugs
told her i can do it better, get her wetter than a tub
boy you softer than some leather or the feathers on a dove
i’m cooler than the cooler, i be smoking with my jeweler
i’m trynna’ eat good, get a stomach like buddha
i wish a n-gga would, i’ll run up on him with the ruger
change a n-gga whole mood, clip longer than a ruler
these n-ggas goofies
b-tches, groupies
blunts thicker than pam – two grams and a doobie
we pull up, bail out, everybody got a toolie
let out 70 shots, you only hear that in movies
and i don’t know why n-ggas hating on me
i got a whole line of b-tches waiting on me
the b-tch wanna’ suck, wanna’ f-ck for the free
she don’t even want a bottle, wanna’ smoke a lil’ weed
she do it sober, she blessed just like jehovah
i call my b-tch, told her it’s over
i’m riding with it on me, my homie got the cobra
i’m hotter than a toaster, you softer than a sofa
i got a lot of money, i got a lot of hoes
i smoke a lot of weed, i buy a lot of clothes
my n-ggas don’t be lacking cause we pack a lot of poles
and if a n-gga lacking, go back down there and score, f-ck?
you take one of ours, we take two of theirs– no!
you take one of ours, we take a few of theirs
so many stru…, so many funerals they stressing
boy, you losing hair
your homie get whacked and you still acting like you don’t care
i know the reason, though
you n-ggas scared, where your real friends at?
cause my n-ggas dead, if not they in the can
so free my n-gga mack and free that n-gga prince
lil’ cannon, where you at?
and they done booked my n-ggas streets, boy
yeah, i’m riding with the heat, boy
my money talk so don’t speak, boy
you feelin’ froggy, better leap boy!

- young pappy lyrics

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