lirik lagu fuck a label – ysr gramz
[intro]
(enrgy beats)
[verse 1: krispylife kidd]
h*llo, what the problem is?
wait, h*llo, what the ticket is?
thought you was somebody else, i got you all up in my biz
n*gga wanna be rich and get sucky in the benz
my b*tch better not cry, i’m puttin’ her out my benz
i guess she was hurt, i f*cked all her friends
free my lil cousin, out that pen’
don’t wipe your nose, if you don’t wash your hands
[verse 2: ysr gramz]
i’m trafficking art, but i’m not with frizz
it’s lean in my cup, if i ain’t got no lid
you and your b*tch ugly as h*ll, y’all might be twins
i done f*cked my bag up, i think i need a bin
kd hit my line, say his baby mama got her friend
i’m like which one, n*gga, you know you got like 10
b*tch said “f*ck me”, text back “when?”
if the p*ssy trash as h*ll, i won’t hit again
[verse 3: krispylife kidd]
b smith sold me a strap, i think this b*tch jammed
i just pulled up, just to buy some perc 10’s
he sold me so many and i’m trafficking percs then
pop this p baby, s*x gon be on 10
nasty ass n*gga, let your friend watch
you ain’t even do the crime, that’s your friend glock
i open n*gga’s top’s up, like a mailbox
i hang with rastas, make a mask out of dreadlocks
[verse 4: ysr gramz]
producer on some bullsh*t, put him in a headlock
shoes old as h*ll, but they deadstock
man, kidd, turn this b*tch around, i forgot my glock
i’m trippin’ off the weed, thought i saw a opp
dawg askin’ too many questions, are you a cop?
30 stickin’ out the glock, lookin’ like a mop
sold a n*gga fake promethazine, he thought it was wock
it went down on his block, he thought it was joc
[verse 5: krispylife kidd]
i did some bullsh*t and took dawg out the game
told the b*tch i was ta, she asked “where my chain?”
i gotta go, d*mn b*tch, you too nosy
shoot a n*gga 54 times, like what you holding
thought i was drunk, no, b*tch, i’m really rolling
it’s a lot of cap from these n*ggas, they be trolling
chop’ split a n*gga up the middle, like it’s moses
you will think my n*gga a chef, the way he keep a toaster
[verse 6: ysr gramz]
ysr, f*ck your label, i signed myself
drop a n*gga, then go out of town, i’ll hide myself
’bout to get my drivers license, and slide myself
back*to*back backwoods, i gotta check my health
treat a n*gga like my son, and use my belt
i ain’t from the 6, i got plays on welch
my plug threw the bag on me, like we was playin’ catch
me and kidd versus anybody, place your bet
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