youngboy never broke again - on my level lyrics
[intro]
who made this sh+t?
tay tay made the beat (tay tay made the beat)
[chorus]
i was on my level, man i came in, & i wish a n+gga would threw
he run up i up & bang him
brought my styrofoam full of mud
cuttin’ up
n+gga i ain’t drunk
i’m just f+cked up
n+gga what?
n+gga is you dumb? is you f+cked up?
all that lame ass sh+t gon’ get you f+cked up
(yeah, yeah)
made my youngin wait outside to get you bussed up
with them dirty pistols
walk out then they murked that n+gga
this that murda gang
first it’s me, then it’s meech, then it’s yungin, murda train
[verse 1]
catch that boy
watch him what his [?] saying
punt that boy back to the nawf
realest it do, crack, raising cane’s
hold on
turnt that sh+t up
my past, i got that major pain
uh, uh
dump blew, blow out brains (let’s go)
now shoot some’
i’ma face him
okay
hop out
bust then aim (n+gga baow)
aiming to my chain (no way)
load up, soon as we find the place
spin
somebody gon’ diе today
bah, bah, bah, bah
7.62
bang from the truck
first sound go boom
up close to the lеg, like b+tch don’t move
bust 1 to the head, then yo whole world (doomed) doomed
keep 2+3 all on my shoes
youngboy, ai stay with a red eye
and i put sh+t on the news
dead guy
told [?] keep me from falling on my cut like oops
bedside, alone just like the devil late night singing blues
head hot, told that b+tch “i don’t just want you come by 2’s”
red dot, wave it across his head, he take me for a fool
can’t go right now plus i’m full of dope right now
and yo hoe she know i’m slime
i won’t need a n+gga, not in trouble
my name gon’ get yo follows up
that’s why bloggers, blogging us
why rappers plan on offing us
f+ck it, in that cutlass with a paintbrush
[chorus]
i was on my level, man i came in, & i wish a n+gga would threw
he run up i up & bang him
brought my styrofoam full of mud
cuttin’ up
n+gga i ain’t drunk
i’m just f+cked up
n+gga what?
n+gga is you dumb? is you f+cked up?
all that lame ass sh+t gon’ get you f+cked up
made my youngin wait outside to get you bussed up
with them dirty pistols
walk out then they murked that n+gga
this that murda gang
first it’s me, then it’s meech, then it’s yungin, murda train
[outro]
in that cutlass with a paintbrush, ducking from the feds
hold on, slimey ass n+gga get ya slide off with with that led (yeah)
dope up in my lungs
flash out get mad and whoop yo head (yeah)
this a [?] stick
this b+tch let out fire, hit, when i spin it (yeah)
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