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ysr gramz & krispylife kidd - dubs outweigh losses lyrics

[intro]
f+ck the fire, we got greese
it’s a wayne beat

[verse 1: ysr gramz]
this n+gga think he drinking real drank, but the wok fake
you the n+gga getting n+ggas locked, ’cause the cops ain’t
she asked me was this gun real? na, the glock fake
i heard these n+ggas out here backdooring, so i ride with drac
i’m in the car with krispylife, so i ride with k
n+gga, i’m still out here grinding, that’s why i rock with ray
b+tch skinny but her p+ssy big, coi leray
i’m out here dropping [?] off a n+gga, i’m in the stu at 8
i’m out here looking for a headhunter [?] my d+ck [?]
we gon’ shoot the f+ck out that n+gga, ’cause he 6/8
how you out here trapping? you don’t know what a brick weigh
f+ck around and drop a 41, yeah, big face
my n+gga kidd just hit a dirty b+tch, now his d+ck stank
my lil n+gga a young thug, he think he rich gang
don’t give a f+ck, shoot my opp at a pistins’ game
hit him with this glock, we turned him up, gave his ass some fame
i know you got some money, but the hoes really think you lame
we finna set him up, this n+gga think he gang
i probably miss with this glock, i won’t miss with k
it’s gon’ take a hundred boes, you wanna get this way
[verse 2: krispylife kidd]
dubs outweigh the losses
the back of my shoe say off white, [?] walking
so many straps round this b+tch, you gotta move with caution
my n+ggas licenced up to shoot you, they don’t do the charges
you want me to talk spicey, ok, then pay that
n+gga can’t [?] sh+t, i’m where he lay at
my lap is where your b+tch face at
you could never f+ck with none of us, n+gga, yeah, them straight facts
the baby glock make you [?] like it’s a pint of tech
got a freaky b+tch [?] tap
really smoking zas on this [?] pack
i really don’t wanna rap with you, bro, ’cause you kinda ass
i don’t pass gramz the wood, he eat all kind of ass
why the f+ck is you doing that?
technically, this a hundred [?] flip it [?]
you a lame n+gga with some cheese, you [?] rats
i’m around all solid n+ggas, i don’t fool with rats
talking greese on a greese beat, [?] got me too atached
you can’t f+ck with me and my caidence
this some bullsh+t [?] police [?]
feeling like yella beezy, all outa favors
your trap ain’t doing no trapping, you outa flavors
you [?] long time, you [?]
you [?] putting your parents in danger
[?] lot on these, just to f+ck ’em up out in traffic
never going to my crib, make them suck me up out in trafic
paid 2 k for this pistol, the f+ck i’ma do [?]
dawg tryna eat healthy, he’d die for salid

- ysr gramz krispylife kidd lyrics

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