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2012 freestyle - young pappy lyrics

[intro]
patron sh*t
g, i’ve been looking at baron, right? he like, “g, you been too quiet, here, off this beat and sh*t, right?”
i guess he think i’d k!ll it, but i*i can’t really, you feel me, do that beat, so…
but i ain’t gon’ stunt, though, g, i ain’t making no noise right now, i got folks working on his mixtape
bu double, man, shout out my brother, man, it’s tfg—the f*cking guys, man, it’s the movement, and…
this sh*t is about to dr—, it’s starting soon
i’m not really on sh*t right now
but i got—, i’m working on my mixtape, man, this 3 f’s sh*t is coming soon, like real life, right here in your face, right?
but look, though, anyways, like i was saying…
yeah, i’ma do something for bro ’cause folks want me to do it, you feel me?
but look, though
i’m like…

[verse]
bro told me, “it’s a lot going on,” but sh*t, he couldn’t talk over the phone
so i just did my time, my n*gga finna come home, i’m doing a lot of stressing, that’s why i’m singing this song
that jail sh*t be crazy—stressing, depressing
got court in the a.m. and i’m hoping i catch this blessing, but sh*t, still i’m home, and i’m still holding strong
can’t forget about that beef sh*t that’s still going on ’cause i got n*ggas woofin’ at me
oppositions woofin’ at me; parole board? i forgot the b*tch, now they looking at me
i get back in town, n*ggas know what’s cracking now
n*ggas’ eyes lighting up ’cause they hear i’m back around
he like, “what the f*ck is up?”
he like, “man, what the f*ck?”
got his mans like, “n*gga, you a man, toughen up”
“i’m just saying, what’s the plan? catch us, he gon’ f*ck us up”
you ducking that action now, yeah, munchie, i’m back in town
i’m thinking ’bout some sh*t, got some thoughts in my head that
“if a n*gga find out, he gon’ talk to the feds?”
but i’m lost in my head, right?
plus, my nickel lemon*squeeze, trigger down, i just hope it don’t get off in my pants
say, i’m better off dead, what? i don’t know why
maybe n*ggas scared, they thinking they gon’ die
i mean, i ain’t gon’ lie, that got to be what it is
if it ain’t that, then sh*t, it’s something i did
’cause n*ggas want me dead in these streets for real, and
if a n*gga playing it’s for keeps for real
got a stove on my waist, that’s heat for real
to cook your ass, got him paying for this beef for real
be for real, n*gga, you ain’t f*cking with the bull
this sh*t i got tucked’ll have you tucking on the floor
i ain’t f*cking with no raw, i got a lot of crack stuff
got a lot of hoes and they keep a lot of packed stuff
that’s just for me, right next to me
i keep her hot and wet off ecstasy
wanna f*ck her? shorty going, why you asking me?
but if you f*ck, don’t think that’s s*x for free
n*gga better have lead if he testing me
gold digging b*tch on my line texting me
she want truey, gucci, louis, prada
b*tch, i’m the man and i spend not a dollar
that answer is nada, ho, i can’t go
head shot, put that red dot on your kangal
b*tches say i changed, though
really, i don’t think so
maybe it’s the ‘tron, i slow down and try to drink slow
patron be the sh*t that i be drinking
that .40 hit your brains, see the sh*t that you was thinking
now, you all over that concrete, stretched out, wetted up
ambulance come, they like, “eurgh! could you get him up?”
yeah, i bet he had enough now, that .40 hit your ass, i bet you ain’t tough now
better sit the f*ck down
f*ck you doing approaching a real n*gga?
you ain’t seeing me like a roach in the field, n*gga
you see that? wouldn’t want to be that?
let you know you dead when your head where your feet at
let you know you booked when them feds where you eat at
all up in ya crib, in the bed where you sleep at
ayy, i don’t wanna see that ’cause i been to jail
and did time ’cause i told ’em, “i ain’t finna tell”
you the type of n*gga snitch, b*tch, ya’d rat a n*gga out
i’m the type of n*gga sneak, creep in that n*gga house tryna wait ’til he come out
that sh*t so fun and i’ll wet his baby mama if that b*tch don’t run
i don’t know what it is, i’m f*cked up in the head
i’m hoping dre get to do his time up in the feds ’cause godd*mn
man, thirty years in the state? every day, you got to worry ’bout getting sh*t
n*gga, tell me what you know about that
a hundred, twenty*six grams, what you know about crack?
pure cocaine that ain’t even cooked yet
i’m living in ’85, my n*gga just took that
for real
[outro]
free jd, n*gga
free my f*cking homies
rest in peace pooh bear, man
n*ggas know it’s tfg, it’s the f*cking guys
free that n*gga clam
free that n*gga vernon
free that n*gga prince
free that n*gga fil
free the n*gga kemo, man
free that n*gga fimi, man
this sh*t is real, man
free that n*gga erick, man
real sh*t, it’s tfg, it’s pbg, it’s the f*cking guys in my f*cking eyes
i’m die l’s for alex and l’s up for l dubb
aha, sh*t’s real, you see the bandana, it’s crooked

- young pappy lyrics

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