ysr gramz & hbk boom - ina mood lyrics
[intro]
(j, this sh+t too crazy)
[verse 1: ysr gramz]
b+tch, i’m in a mood
ar with the monkey nuts, we’ll make you move
get down, or lay the f+ck down, we gon make you choose
he jumped in the streets and got whacked, he ain’t lace his shoes
i’m from a grimy ass hood, we’ll take your food
you lyin’ in your raps on every track, n+gga april fools
scared to bring rappers on my block, they gon take their jewels
this wood hittin’ harder than a b+tch, it just made me poot
[verse 2: hbk boom]
yeah, b+tch, i’m in my mode
gave his ass the ball in the clutch, but that n+gga froze
got so many woods in this b+tch, think we work at lowe’s
your b+tch and her friend weak as h+ll, they be sharin’ clothes
hate rap n+ggas from the sag’, really rudy poot
man, i can’t do a song with these n+ggas, they don’t get no views
aye, told your main thing slide down, get her coochie bruised
and my brothers low as h+ll with their sh+t, never make the news
[verse 3: ysr gramz]
b+tch, text my phone, said she love me, b+tch, i hate you too
oh, you affiliated with ’em, we finna paint you too
i don’t need a gun, we can scr+p, i’ll break your tooth
i ain’t gon lie lil n+gga (they think i’m lyin’ though)
bro will get to shootin’ in this b+tch, he like john doe
you got a glock, but don’t shoot, call you rondo
the draco will fold one of you n+ggas, like a taco
see a opp and drop on him, feel like pop smoke
[verse 4: hbk boom]
i’m finna start lyin’ in my raps, i got a condo
i’m finna start lyin’ in my raps, i got a whole house
if they ain’t tryna f+ck the whole gang, kick them hoes out
my shooters gon shoot that b+tch from deep, if you don’t close out
man, i’m finna take a sh+t on these n+ggas, pull the roll out
you used to have the bag back then, but where your roll now?
and you saved up that stash, stupid ass, spent that sh+t on shoes
yeah, you used to roll with the big dawgs, boy, you larry hughes
[verse 5: ysr gramz]
what your favorite rapper spent on jewels, spent that on some food
flashin’ 12 hundred in your pic, i spent that on my boo
b+tch wanted money for the p+ssy, but she got the boot
i know these n+ggas sick i’m gettin’ off, i think they need some soup
i’ma get the head out your b+tch, while i’m eatin’ fruit
i’ma still trap when i’m rich, serve uncle snoop
(you robbed a mans in the alley, you ain’t got the juice)
.308 shootin’ out this barrel, knock off your roof
[verse 6: hbk boom]
these n+ggas is the po+po’s, think i hear the sirens
sick of these n+ggas, p+ssy ass, think they got the virus
gone off the, and this, feelin’ like i’m flyin’
you be eatin’ steaks with the snakes, i eat with the lions
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