yung ro - gyeah lyrics
g-g-g-g-g-gyeah, gyeah (gyeah)
g-g-g-g-g-gyeah, gyeah (gyeah)
g-g-g-g-g-gyeah, gyeah (gyeah)
g-g-g-g-g-gyeah, gyeah (uh huh)
g-g-g-g-g-gyeah, gyeah
g-g-g-g-g-gyeah, gyeah
g-g-g-g-g-gyeah, gyeah
it’s that, d-mn, ro, get ’em
(hey, look)
i ain’t battlin’ rappers on 1 and 6 in park man or
kissin’ puffy’s -ss on makin’ of the band
i’m in n-body land, you countin’ up grands
with a dime piece ho convincin’ her to leave her man
got a blunt in my hand, x, o, and i’m sippin’
high as f-ck i’m trippin’ and i ain’t trippin’
pimpin’ and i ain’t slippin’ ’cause slippin’ ain’t me
’cause i can’t afford a loss, plus slippin’ ain’t free
i’m a motherf-ckin’ g, with an o in the front
trust me slow daddy, you don’t want to front
i’m mr. n-body man, do what n-body can
talk n-body slang, it’s a n-body thing
they look at me just like i’m nothin’
but speakin’ like i’m somethin’
so i greet ’em like it’s nothin’
conceited and i’m rushin’
back to my business ’cause i’m needed for some questions
i’m all b-lls, at my desk seated like it’s nothing
got warrants in my mail, i open, read ’em like it’s nothing
got a hungry white lawyer, he goin’ eat it like it’s nothing
so i get it like it’s nothin’ and treat it like it’s nothing
two-way ringing, i’m busy, i delete it like it’s nothing
i’m readin’ and i’m puffin’, drinkin’ hennessey
thinkin’ ’bout b-tch n-gg-s, and my confused enemies (oh)
what’s the problem, j-j-j-j-just scared
get the f-ck out of here, g-g-g-g-g-gyeah
g-g-g-g-g-gyeah, gyeah [x8]
it’s king cooper, get ’em
(ay, ay)
you say that you want fire come hire the messiah
you say that there’s one higher than cooper, there’s none, liar
i got atheletic compadre’s that will run by you
and pitch that white thing in your hand like an umpire
come try a n-gg- like me, the flow is so complex
if you hate me don’t come, ’cause after that comes plex in a form
of two ladies who act like they want s-x
put her tongue in your mouth, no, put the heat to your chest, yes
i call them ho-bots, take orders like robots
then come home with all the dough you got hidin’ in your socks
(gyeah, hold up my mind movin’ too fast for me
let me catch up with myself, gyeah, gyeah)
head busters lurking where i lurk, put a squirt in that guys shirt
’cause they know how much i’m worth and go bankrupt if i’m hurt
i’m launchin’ that ho that’ll go put that iron to that guys shirt
don’t matter where you plant your foot on the earth, you on my turf
got boys in oakcliff that’s deep in that drug zone
that will go put that glove on, then go put that snub on
we’ll put it to your dome, and we’ll miss you when you’re gone
it’s so hard to say goodbye’s in this song
so don’t think there’s goin’ be no apologies
my dough, a lot of g’s, plus i know a lot of g’s
that’ll do it bebo style and sn-tch, your impala keys
no back talkin’ n-gg-, just unload your pockets, please
do i look like i’ll be shortin’ you, keep a gat
but next time i’ll be short as two
i have you maxin’ the blue hue a little more than who
that n-gg- killa hit a n-gg- and that boy’ll be blue
like the color blue, you know i’m royal
somethin’ for you i destroy you
heat so far in your cheek saliva, and your cheek will boil
and i hope your tongue burn, goin’ learn that no perm
can get your head hotter than what i got if my dough turned up
messin’ now with your chick and i ain’t goin’ leave no sperm
i get in ho’s like rooms when the handle on the door turn
you can be an underground rapper, or one with a major deal
he’s alright, but he’s not chamill… g-g-g-g-g-gyeah gyeah.
g-g-g-g-g-gyeah, gyeah [x8]
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