lirik lagu sak runners – ysr gramz & driveway baby
[intro]
(enrgy made this one)
[verse 1: ysr gramz]
call me big wop, ’cause i got big grams
he told you that was runtz, you a big ham
you ain’t really winnin’ with your team, you the sixth man
bro do magic with them cards, he gon’ self*scan
bro was f*ckin’ over kc, got himself banned
you was f*ckin’ with a rat and got yourself jammed
he put his gun down and boxed and got himself slammed
i’m blowin’ cookie ‘woods like a f*ckin’ fan
you don’t listen to my songs, n*gga, you a fan
when i get my money up, i’m goin’ to j*pan
i’m just tryna take a trip to cali, f*ck her in the sand
n*gga want a verse from ysr, man, i need a band
she wanna suck my ding*ding, pull it out my pants
n*gga think i’m broke ’cause of what? ’cause i got on vans?
got a gun, but won’t shoot that b*tch like you ain’t got no hands
fat boy, i really like to eat lamb chops and yams
man, this world f*cked up, you gotta watch your fam
naw, this world really f*cked up, you gotta watch your mans
put your trust in runt*runt and she just got rammed
i’m tryna run my money up and go and drop a ram
[verse 2: driveway baby]
i can get it off a bag, ain’t gotta do no scams
i can get them p’s in, get it all off grams
n*gga tried to shake my hand, i am not your fam
n*gga tried to shoot an ar, but that b*tch got jammed
was f*ckin’ the cards heavy, it’s time to switch it up
these n*ggas hate me ’round this b*tch, but i don’t give a f*ck
ho wanna be my b*tch, i don’t wanna cuff
i’m tryna get ahead, b*tch, i’m tryna run it up
you should’ve known my resume, b*tch, i just wanna f*ck
be my lil’ driver on the side, b*tch, be my duck
we can f*ck on the side, i can be in your guts
yung sak runners, b*tch, we finna f*ck the summer up
my stepdad mad at me, i f*cked his hummer up
hit a b*tch p*ssy hard, her sh*t numbin’ up
my n*gga used to hoop good, but he f*cked his jumper up
your b*tch fat as h*ll, she gotta lift her stomach up
my b*tch mad at me, said she ain’t feelin’ me
hit her with my ding*dong, said, “it’s k!llin’ me”
she don’t like backshots, said, “you be drillin’ me”
i just want the money, you ain’t gotta be no friend to me
[verse 3: ysr gramz]
i just dropped a three up in my pop, this ain’t hennessy
bro smacked every target in tennessee
i got another hundred sale, meet me on witherbee
we ain’t get to k!ll that lil’ n*gga, but we injured him
[verse 4: driveway baby]
i got these gucci runners, b*tch, they made from italy
bro just gurbed a white b*tch, her name was emily
man, these n*ggas copycats, they just mimic me
quavis just sold some top*shelf cookie on civic street
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