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 & yn jay - beecher mafia lyrics

beecher mafia lyrics
[intro]
(313 mafia)
[?] not gunna lie, this beat hard

[verse 1]
if its smoke in the air we can’t talk about it
n+gga drivin’ crazy in the skat, he got took up out it
juss’ cuz you got a gun on you, you won’t shoot n0body
he got a big ass grenade, he finna blew somebody
oops, i mean blow somebody
n+gga you prolly owe somebody, forty thousand dollars in his pocket, he don’t own no wallet
b+tch i barely went to school, n+gga m+th+ f+ck a college
cuttin’ n+ggas off on my side, they can’t keep it solid
you ain’t real, you ain’t slidin’ with your guys
hit the gas, hone, nd’ make that b+tch come alive
h+ll yhea i bang b’s nd’ my n+ggas doin’ five
you ain’t even gotta ask me, h+ll yhea imma ride
imma slide on that n+gga, why you liеd on yo n+ggas
cut that n+gga off, he testified on his n+ggas
show mе three hundred somethin’ k, d+mn there cried for my n+ggas
jump out with that k, like surprise young n+ggaaah
i remember i was broke, i d+mn near cried to my n+gga
ridin’ around on hot wheel, im finna ride with my n+gga
close ranged headshot, you see the fire in the n+gga
r.i.p my n+gga [?], feel like i died with my n+gga
oh you was my n+gga [?], you did time with my n+gga
kidnapped boy, i throw you in the trunk, i drive with a n+gga
dog hidin’ in the crib, i finna slide on his n+ggas
big ass gun got me walkin’ crazy
flawless grill in my mouth, got me talkin’ crazy
big ass hole on my barrel, got it sparkin’ crazy
i ain’t feed my pit bull in days, got it barkin’ crazy
make pam get the f+ck out, they say martin crazy
oh you must don’t got apple music, i be chartin’ crazy
first one at the finish line, but i be startin’ lazy
i juss’ pulled up in a big body, got me+ ahhh
i juss’ pulled up in a big body got me parkin’ crazy
you ain’t made no money all year, you been starvin’ lately
oh you had a car, you must’ve lost it, you’ve been walkin’ lately
you been driinkin’ all that bullsh+t lean, got you fartin’ crazy
yhea everywhere i go, i be servin’ fiends, i be servin’ crazy
the way i [?] grams, got the bowls, you be rollin’ [?]
bro walkin’ with the mic grown like he strollin’ babies
gotta hundred somethin’ [?], well i prolly even served your auntie
like a pair of trick dice, n+gga i do you janky
f+cked around nd’ almost shot my brother cuz he tried to prank me
i juss’ had to beat my fiend ass cuz he tried to gank me
i’m in that gxp goin’ fast, man who tryin’ race me?
i gotta play for two bands, is you finna take me?
i’m on the east side, [?], me at daily
i juss’ got into it with my b+tch, bout to replay[?]
let this k off, it gon’ sound like ten m80’s
i’ll send yo ass to the devil like a free nation
dearest pop out with that mask, you think you seen jason
[?] on the [?], im a play maker
hittin’ cali then oregon, imma risk taker

- ysr gramz yn jay lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS