start it - grindhard e lyrics
[verse 1: ysr gramz]
bro ain’t got no baby yet but he got baby bottles
n*gga mad tryna beef with me ’bout his baby mama
you ever heard fifty*somethin’ shots out a baby chopper?
chase down badge like lebron did iguodala
put a price tag on his head, he only cost a dollar
k!ll a n*gga while he got drip on, he got popped in prada
lil’ n*gga wanna be like ysr, i am not his father
lil e got a baby drac’ on him, he is not a toddler
[verse 2: grindhard e]
yeah, i’m short as mini me, but is it austin powers?
bullet in the head, he got hit, that’s what caused the trauma
send a n*gga, spend his whole stash and i saved a dollar
that [?] taxin’ on the za, i middleman it, i only made a dollar
f*ck a striker, we just went and slid out an old impala
got into it with my fiend sun, she—, alright
got into it with my fiend sun, he said i owed his mama
[verse 3: brandon buckingham]
get that b*tch away from me, i don’t like her
smash her, ditch her on the street just like a striker
with the kia boys fishin’ for a whip, they popped a tire
started to swerve, hit a curb, now i think i might retire
d*mn, why’d i pop a xan’? i’m r*t*rded
got a push*to*start car and i couldn’t even start it
[verse 4: grindhard e]
they shot the whip, he hopped up out that b*tch, couldn’t even park it
i just took a bad b*tch up off the market
he got a scope up on his stick, he can’t even hit his target
my lil’ n*ggas swipin’, they just got caught, they tried to hit a target
nine grams get money together, we ain’t worried ’bout who the hardest
i just got a rug burn, i f*cked his b*tch up off the carpet
[?] said i know that d*ck good, you and your b*tch always arguin’
cell cut my phone, i just hung up on his ass, he tried to bargain
[verse 5: ysr gramz]
kick her out the crib after i f*ck, i’m like martain
no h*llcats, drivin’ fast down my block, i’ma park it
he ain’t the plug, he a nerd, he wear glasses like arthur
bro was sellin’ drugs in third grade in [?] charter
i do a b*tch bold, i pray i never have a daughter
i’m tryna sh*t talk with cotton mouth, pass the water
i’ma step back and let this b*tch shoot, james harden
that n*gga stole from me, got his ass smoked, that was karma
catchin’ all these plays on the west, meet at carmen
[verse 6]
put that weed out, that sh*t’s garbage
he seems like police, he is a sergeant
b*tch tried to shake ass in the club and she farted
hopped on a song with gramz and e, should i charge ’em?
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