YSN Flow - FYB! lyrics

Fuck you, bitch and I mean it
No friends, company my demons
Big bands I'mma blow don't keep it
Fuck you, that love you showed ain't mean it
Fighting my problems will I get defeated
I'mma try to flex up and beat it
Shot, shot, shot, shot
I make a call and them
Niggas don't play round
We beat lil niggas up on the playground
I was back then but we beating a K now
Shot, shot, shot, shot, shot
If he try to run it’s a chase down
Hit his back and we leaving his face down
We just broke but we all gettin' paid

Grra, grra, grra, grra
Boy you gotta be jokin’ you
Don’t got no motion grra, grra, grra, grra
I got shit in my head
That don’t ever get spoken
Nah, nah, nah, nah bae would you give me CPR
If I start overdosin’ Nah, nah
Fuck it I don’t want to
Be like that right now oh god damn
Blow a track Christian Dior my feet right
Now I don’t еven like them
Grr, grr, grr, grr, grr I say guys damn
Hе got targets half them at the
Sky guess that was gods plan

Fuck you, bitch and I mean it
No friends, company my demons
Big bands I'mma blow don't keep it
Fuck you, that love you showed ain't mean it
Fighting my problems will I get defeated
I'mma try to flex up and beat it
Shot, shot, shot, shot
I make a call and them
Niggas don't play round
We beat lil niggas up on the playground
I was back then but we beating a K now
Shot, shot, shot, shot, shot
If he try to run it’s a chase down
Hit his back and we leaving his face down
We just broke but we all gettin' paid

Back on my turnt shit they
Know I’m running the city
All of the old G’s get it wit me
We gon’ rep ace town fuck a win year
When he touch down shit be getting gritty
I don’t really give time to no bitties
If she can’t take dick fuck her titties
I know a lot of labels tryna get me
I need a billion fuck a Millie
His back in, come tap in
We got bowls on the floor and the mattress
He keep on posting he got it in traffic
We gon fill up that whip if he gas it
Know you a shooter but that ain’t for nobody
For you go do that drill better mask it
Niggas ain’t shooters they
Really be airbourne
And everytime that we shot hit the basket

Fuck you, bitch and I mean it
No friends, company my demons
Big bands I'mma blow don't keep it
Fuck you, that love you showed ain't mean it
Fighting my problems will I get defeated
I'mma try to flex up and beat it
Shot, shot, shot, shot
I make a call and them
Niggas don't play round
We beat lil niggas up on the playground
I was back then but we beating a K now
Shot, shot, shot, shot, shot
If he try to run it’s a chase down
Hit his back and we leaving his face down
We just broke but we all gettin' paid