Knxwledge - Yaymhm. lyrics
[Knxwledge - Yaymhm. lyrics]
-fuck about the niggas you killed
Or the bodies you got
I send my niggas through to body your block
Run in your crib ima chop all
On your mommy and pop
We on the highway to hell
Is you riding or not?
You need work? just meet me at
The top of the block i got it in by the ten
And twenty dollars a pop
What you need? coke, weed
Is you copping or not?
Cuz you wasting time, dog
My block hotter than hot
But who the fuck want what? none of yall
You killed one of mine ima kill some of yall
Man ion wanna brawl, i wanna war it out
With guns dumping off, and blood pouring out
Now what this boy about? im bout my money
Yall cuz when you broke as a
Joke, ain't shit funny, dog
Jump outta pocket
Ima cock and let the muffle off
The AR hit your arm, hit em up the wall
Show you how i get that dough
You gotta x out blocks and move
O's like tic tac toe
Find a connect, get that blow
That'll have your fiends racing like
On your marks, get set, go
Im the nigga with the sick ass
Flow and the hot lines
Im on the corner like the stop signs
By the chinese store
Eyes low like a chinese boy
Two twins like a siamese, boy
You don't know, im a grimy boy
I'll creep up, body boy
Flip kick like karate
Time is money ion got a second to waste
So try taking mine
I'll put the tec in your face
Slash to the nine if you try
To step in my way
Put the shotty to your body
Blow your section away, pussy
Your death date must have been set for today
Cuz youre talking like youre walking with
A vest and a K
Run in your crib with the S in a A, game over
They find you there sick missing
The rest of your face
Look, they call me Meek Mill
And ion play that shit
I keep a K with 50 shots
And i'll spray that shit, pussy
If you don't mean it, don't say that shit
Cuz the shell size of a L
That make your maybach flip
Man i hate that shit
Niggas be talking out they face
But soon as you body something they
Be talking to the jakes
Man im talking with my eight
Fuck arguing with you
Im putting all of em in you
They gotta chalk you from the gate
Cuz i ain't playing with you
I let this can hit you
Run up on you broad day
Murk you while your man with you
And he was strapped with a strap
But he ran on you
Then they gotta call the coroners
And vans for you
Just to get you up, body bagged, zip you up
Cuz yous a done for, nigga
What you come for?
This a grown man game, yous a young boy
That mac 10 hold 50 plus one more
Niggas rep it hard from the set to the yard
Bring a tec and revolver when it's drama
Ima monster, and i got connects for the raw
There you go, aide a O
Its the best and it's soft
When youre stressed on the yard
You thinking that im scared of you?
I'll put you in a box like cereal
Man, i ain't spiritual
But i'll leave this nigga holy like a bible
With my 3030 rifle, slide a nigga back
Spin em 'round like Michael Jackson
Or the bodies you got
I send my niggas through to body your block
Run in your crib ima chop all
On your mommy and pop
We on the highway to hell
Is you riding or not?
You need work? just meet me at
The top of the block i got it in by the ten
And twenty dollars a pop
What you need? coke, weed
Is you copping or not?
Cuz you wasting time, dog
My block hotter than hot
But who the fuck want what? none of yall
You killed one of mine ima kill some of yall
Man ion wanna brawl, i wanna war it out
With guns dumping off, and blood pouring out
Now what this boy about? im bout my money
Yall cuz when you broke as a
Joke, ain't shit funny, dog
Jump outta pocket
Ima cock and let the muffle off
The AR hit your arm, hit em up the wall
Show you how i get that dough
You gotta x out blocks and move
O's like tic tac toe
Find a connect, get that blow
That'll have your fiends racing like
On your marks, get set, go
Im the nigga with the sick ass
Flow and the hot lines
Im on the corner like the stop signs
By the chinese store
Eyes low like a chinese boy
Two twins like a siamese, boy
You don't know, im a grimy boy
I'll creep up, body boy
Flip kick like karate
Time is money ion got a second to waste
So try taking mine
I'll put the tec in your face
Slash to the nine if you try
To step in my way
Put the shotty to your body
Blow your section away, pussy
Your death date must have been set for today
Cuz youre talking like youre walking with
A vest and a K
Run in your crib with the S in a A, game over
They find you there sick missing
The rest of your face
Look, they call me Meek Mill
And ion play that shit
I keep a K with 50 shots
And i'll spray that shit, pussy
If you don't mean it, don't say that shit
Cuz the shell size of a L
That make your maybach flip
Man i hate that shit
Niggas be talking out they face
But soon as you body something they
Be talking to the jakes
Man im talking with my eight
Fuck arguing with you
Im putting all of em in you
They gotta chalk you from the gate
Cuz i ain't playing with you
I let this can hit you
Run up on you broad day
Murk you while your man with you
And he was strapped with a strap
But he ran on you
Then they gotta call the coroners
And vans for you
Just to get you up, body bagged, zip you up
Cuz yous a done for, nigga
What you come for?
This a grown man game, yous a young boy
That mac 10 hold 50 plus one more
Niggas rep it hard from the set to the yard
Bring a tec and revolver when it's drama
Ima monster, and i got connects for the raw
There you go, aide a O
Its the best and it's soft
When youre stressed on the yard
You thinking that im scared of you?
I'll put you in a box like cereal
Man, i ain't spiritual
But i'll leave this nigga holy like a bible
With my 3030 rifle, slide a nigga back
Spin em 'round like Michael Jackson