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yung matta - super lyrics

[chorus: yung matta]

b-tch i️ smoke a blunt in my motherf-ckin uber
smokin’ on some stank and it got me feelin super
drop the ceilin’, villain call me matta lex luther
i’ll ruin your dreams now i’m matta freddy krueger
b-tch i’m doin numbers i️ don’t need no math tutor
before you start some beef don’t forget about my shooter
b-tch i️ got a new whip, but you still ride a scooter
y’all can’t guess my next move, watch how i maneuver

[verse 1: yung matta]

(aye aye) lil b-tch i’m booted up
tafolla got the yoppa he might have to shoot it up
all these b-tches be like matta oh my god you cool as f-ck
i don’t wanna buy yo grams cuz yo bud be boof as f-ck
like oh oh, woah woah, yeah yeah, hey!
brazy got the stick and he love to let it bang
like oh oh, woah woah, yeah yeah, hey!
i️ be wit my clique yea i love my f-ckin’ gang
long range movin’ yea my plug he got the far packs
long range shootin’, bustin’ 3’s from super far back
went straight to the dealer i️ ain’t buyin’ sh-t from carmax
b-tch i️ got the whips and i️ could even show the carfax
get off the block i️m a native
b-tch i’m creative
stop cuz my bars innovative
she toppin me up like i️ made it
i feel like i’m faded
i swear that my bars underrated
load the choppa yea we stocking up like the nasdaq
narcs be all around me so i’m laying out the rat traps

[chorus 2: yung matta]

[verse 2: yung matta]

cut up, like a surgeon
b-tch i’m splurging
you hurtin’
callin’ eddo like it’s urgent
swervin’
feelin’ savage like we purgin’
lurkin, she love me, i buy my b-tch a birkin
comin’ in the game now you could watch me enter
brazy got the red dot he hit you in the center
i️ could mix a n-gga like i️ put em in a blender
if murder what she wrote, you won’t believe what i️ sent her
ima have to stretch you out, them pockets lookin’ fat
if rap my only way out then there ain’t no lookin’ back
and i’m only 17 but i️ been made a couple racks
i️ had to spend it all, then i️ made it right back
free my n-gga franco like we put it on a poster
you a p-ssy n-gga, ain’t a gangsta you a jokester
why you gotta glock if you don’t take it out the holster
.380 be the heater lil casho got the toaster

[chorus 3: yung matta]

- yung matta lyrics

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