a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

ysr gramz - disrespect lyrics

[intro]
(you’re not making this easy, kyle)

[verse 1: ysr gramz]
my n+gga said he wanna make it out the hood, i told him it ain’t easy
i’m a motherf+ckin’ ghetto boy, but i ain’t with peezy
he got seven fake chains on, his whole neck cheesy
my n+gga f+ckin’ with that snow like he know jeezy
seventy+five dollars for an eighth, i don’t smoke breezy
she ain’t let me f+ck when i came over, this b+tch keep teasin’
a n+gga reached for a chain, made him meet jesus
brodie spent forty on a watch, he bought a deep freezer
f+ck around and put a heat+seeker on my streetsweeper
i let her roll shakе out the ‘bow, i told her dig deeper
droppеd a mixtape, it was weak, he bought six features
the hardest bully out the whole litter, this lil’ b+tch a keeper

[verse 2: krispylife kidd]
got some hoes throwin’ b’s and some extra sh+t
ldg get excited when that visa hit
knock a slice of your head on the ground, you a piece of snitch
smack a n+gga with a bottle in the club, made him eat a fifth
hm, ain’t n0body doin’ disrespect
pop a n+gga in his club clothes, he done died in drip
where you goin’, my n+gga? you just put five on six
and the hoes say you don’t really crack, you be lyin’ on d+ck
off+white, pradas, or some diors
blew the opps’ crib up under the porch with some c4
nah, hit his block heavy sh+t, leave the street sore
hit four b+tches in the past two days, now my meat sore
[verse 3: ysr gramz & krispylife kidd]
i ain’t finna sell the whole ‘bow, i’m finna keep four
i just punched a dyk+ in her mouth, i made her meet floor
you wanna be a man, don’t you?
i just bought a glock with a switch, it had a fan on it
he finna slide with a tec, i swear to god, it’s gon’ jam on him
dog had a white tee on, now it got red on it

[verse 4: ysr gramz]
the opps always live in the crib, so we slid on it
bro hit this lil’ b+tch first, i got dibs on her
i can’t get her pregnant, pull out and put my kids on her
broke+ass n+gga, you ain’t sh+t if you ain’t no crib owner
did a verse and paid twelve hundred dollars for these rick owens
booked us for a show, in the contract, we got sticks on us
i’m tryna get my whole gang rich, i’m like rich homie
i always had a bag, i ain’t never had no big homie
b+tch out here f+ckin’ the whole city, you gon’ l!ck on her
if the b+tch on fire, i wouldn’t p+ss on her

- ysr gramz lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS