Lyrics:
call my shit Patricia
Young Money militia, and I am the commissioner
You don't want start Weezy, 'cause the F is for Finisher
So misunderstood, but
Yeah nigga Bergman Rose nigga
You already know what the fuck going on man
Outro to the motherfuking young rose album
Nigga I appreciate you for
What’s it gunna be
Stacka hunnit gs
Gunna right in front me
Pack a ton of heat
BaLency runnas on my feet
Couple hunnit on the V
2 of you only 1 of me
official
Let me tell you when it all started
Game dropped Documentary and
Made plenty enemies
It was a classic album, but prior to that
Guerilla Black
One man, honcho truck load, ammo
All black, suit and tie, don't move in camo
Gloves on, no Evie
Trigger finger forever ready
One man, one machete
Out
name hannah
Black and white bitches I call that hoe panda
Offended by my lyrics get out your feelings
Drop bout two albums you still ain't want hear it
a gold digger
Imma young stunna
Drip to hard like gunna
Give my girl some packs
Turn a good girl to a runna
Trappin' by GTC
Bust a nut GTG
Smokin' quad
need each other more than ever, don't leave me by myself..
[Chris]
Young Chris... (check it)
Young Neef..
Together for ever, Neef & see
I give
fine
Young tender, would you be mine?"
I get you in my car, drive you to my house
Cuz I'm a mack, I cold turn you out
I wont ask, and I sure won't beg
niggas so live, why the fuck would I care
When that lambo flow by, y'all suckas gon' stare
And all them haters gon' hate
Fuck them, 'cause all them hoes
a Tech9nine Skeme
Westside Gunna Butchered by Benny Freddie
Was a runna with Kung Fu Kenny
Organized Konfusion of a Freestyle Fellowship
Jedi Mind Tricks
albums, they got spouses
I dated strippers that trap loud inside they Challengers
To be black and talented, all I've ever been
Took a tour de France
I hear your name in the papers
They call me, "Young Ass Weezy"
I'm gon' 'round up the whole uptown
We gon' burn this bitch down to the ground (to
what they say
They say the sun, how it go
They say the sun don't shine where the young black folk don't rhyme
You see this thump right here for the rump
spitter with a pro black agenda
Supported by the black referendum
And this only a sliver of the splendor
Homie it's the sensei
A dope boy with a flow no lo
young gunnas in the truck with it
Sigel would've loved it, Philly would've fucked with it
California state property you niggas stuck with it
Brrrring,
that's a Challenge to my papa
I had a dream
I had 10 houses 4 Pockets full with Deadz
I wanna be like gunna, wanna sound likeThugga
I want an Album that be
Machine Gun Kelly is as self-effacing as he
Is talented known also
By his real name Colson
Baker, MGK effortlessly defies
Easy categorization from
winning? Just
So that a nigga in the street
Can give me a fucking dap?
The same niggas that didn't buy
My album any fucking way
That downloaded the shit? Get
Yellow canary, tennis bracelet necklace, knahmsayin?
Three quarter black mink, shades, canaries in both ears
Knahmsayin? Black Phantom, triple
outselling you
By 29 I had three albums that had blew
Now let's talk about somethin' I don't really do
Go in someone's daughter's mouth stealin' food
But
Crackers is out with Cactus Albums, blackness is in
African symbols and medallions represent Black Power
And we ain't know what it meant, me and my man
a jungle
Give that bih that anaconda
I like cougar black queens they like young trap Kings
She deserve the Finer things she enjoy expensive weed
When you
[Chorus]
[Black Child + Charli Baltimore]
My nigga Ja sold more records then a {O.G.}
Ty flyin by in 'Lac truck like a {O.G.}
And Gotti's dough's
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