YSR Gramz, KrispyLife Kidd, ShittyBoyz - Fab Five lyrics
[YSR Gramz, KrispyLife Kidd, ShittyBoyz - Fab Five lyrics]
Red tips, 762s, shoot a Taki at him
Good punch at Yoshi
Satisfied by hibachi habit website surfing
Tryna punch like I'm Bobby Lashley
Hundred round bop to his face
We gon' hockey mask him
Me and gang be cracking cards but
Unc' and them be rock slanging
Sauce I got be secret than a bitch
I be done squashed Plankton
Knock him down his ass and from the station
Caught him on that corner
Gave him ninety like a right angle
She won't leave me 'lone 'cause I'm the
Catch and she know I'm up
Tryna slide this way? We gon' hit
Him like a hockey puck
How'd I get his mans but not
Him? He a lucky fuck
Yo people don't support none of yo
Music 'cause they know you suck
Computer thugs
You won't see me going back and forth
Could've went and bought yo bitch some
Hair but I bought a shirt
They ain't really see us going far
I know some niggas hurt
I'ma keep making niggas sick until
I'm in the dirt
Oh, you spent all yo money? Nigga
How that work? I know a bitch with some ass
She don't know how to twerk
I'll put the whole world on
You like I'm Lil Durk
My nigga really a hot boy like he lil' Turk
I front that madman
Told him he got to pay me on the first
How you out here killing niggas
And you used to jerk?
This nigga off a Seroquel
He ain't off a Perc'
We'll take yo mans from you
Put him on a shirt
FN on me, got photos
Well hit me on the first fuck around
See a fiend and knock the words off his shirt
Fuck a nigga high school crush
I know that shit hurt i got it on camera
I can show you how this bitch work
I'm booling
I'm with Gramz and I'm with the ShittyBoyz
Dawg talking 'bout his beef, well fuck it
I got a fifty ball
Treat the opp like a homeboy, fuck it
I got fifty for him
Suck the dick good enough, baby
I got fifty for you
I like yo son too, fuck it
I got some Jordans for him
Oh, yo pops drink lean? I
Got some more for him
Drop a on a nigga block
I put the quarter on him
Like I'm tryna plug dawg with a cougar
I put 40 on him
Saying sí to the Cuban plug
I guess I'm bilingual
Widebody Hellcat, lil' bitch, I drive evil
This a Hutch piece, boy
Stop acting like our ice equal
Unky got that dog him
Riding 'round with five beagles
High as hell off a eighth of something
I forgot the strain
Boy, you not no fucking player
Sit there and watch the game
Dub poking through the Ksubi jeans
That's just pocket change
Monkey nuts on this lil' fucker
I ain't gotta aim
Surf and turf for dinner, this
A hundred dollar pasta, gang
At the opps' home
Sticked up like a Dodgers game
I be pape chasing
You be looking for a thot to save
Could pop him up
We gon' Triple S stomp his face
I don't fuck with dimes, only nines
I'm the one she need
Why would I be scared of yo ass? Nigga
Don't you bleed?
Been peeped the couple mini-mes
They like my seed
Starting to think these niggas lactose
They ain't got no cheese
I let this bitch stay the night
And she don't wanna leave
This nigga mad at me 'cause
I ain't got no weed
I'm finna beat my brother ass
He bought my granny lean
This nigga head fucked up
He just beat up a fiend
Get you killed for a dub, that's a PPP
Summertime last year, that shit was a EDD
I know you see this icy-ass
Chain, if you reach, i tee
Looking at yo team
I can tell that you the weakest link
Ayy, ShittyBoyz
Huh, I ain't done, I'ma keep rapping
Three lines in a Tron verse? Boy
That's three captions
I might get the I don't need practice
In Wally World
Double back if the piece active horse mode
Showing wave riders who the sea captain
Looking at the strippers in the club like
"Y'all gon' need jackets" road running
I know where I'm at but I see cactus
Huh, probably somewhere in the dessert
Bitch play with me? Well she
Probably somewhere in the blender
Catch him out in traffic
223s ain't gon' lift his fender
Big shitty up in Saks
I'm the biggest spender
Huh, ayy, ShittyBoyz