lirik lagu creep on em – yung9ine dro
[intro: yung9ine dro]
huh
go
(ooh, 9ine block records)
b*tch, look
[verse 1: yung9ine dro]
i just want the money, f*ck the fame and the recognition
baby, if i f*ck, the whole gang gotta hit it
couple shots from the drac’, look like a bear done bit him
i been tryna keep my cool, but i can’t stand these n*ggas
i know i’m humble, but i turn into a demon when you rile me up
my name got brought up on the news, they tryna lock me up
i got a gun for my friends that turned foe, they tryna pop me up
i just dropped two pills in my pop, now we sippin’ on a roxy cup
n*gga, me and your b*tch did a lot of stuff
that p*ssy good, if she don’t answer, then i’m poppin’ up
and i’m out on bond, got tired of cos screamin’, “lock it up”
i f*cked up a whole half a brick, it wasn’t lockin’ up
b*tch, shut thе f*ck up and come top me up
and evеry time i f*ck, i wear a glove, ’cause i can’t knock her up
i grew up eatin’ ramen, now it’s lobster for lunch
i got this sh*t off the block, this sh*t ain’t come from no punch
i take risks ’bout that paper, i’m on the road with some drugs
i got adderalls, boy, and a whole lot of bud
couldn’t get in with that ten milli’, so i snuck in the snub
godd*mn, this b*tch a freak, she tryna f*ck in the club
first you put your mask on, creep on ’em, up that heat on ’em
how you get shot and ain’t do sh*t? it must ain’t mean nothin’
just like steph, my n*ggas shootin’, they all got the green b*tton
and they be quick to turn a white tee red for some green money
my b*tch f*ck b*tches too, let’s have a threesome
how this b*tch p*ssy so tight when she had three sons?
he ain’t check the ‘bows when he bought ’em, but ain’t no refunds
i bought my b*tch a new body and she ain’t need one, nah
[verse 2: babyfxce e]
been sellin’ eighthies out the ‘bow bag, now i got weed crumbs
i just f*cked a b*tch, then i tricked on her and got her feet done
started beatin’ her sh*t down at one o’clock, and now it’s three somethin’
if i cheat, i’m just h*rny, if she cheat, that sh*t mean somethin’
that b*tch startin’ to like a n*gga
beat it from the back like plumber crack and the pipe was with me
i’m sellin’ dog with my dog with me, they both be bitin’ n*ggas
body shots from the four*five look like tyson hit you
oh, you want a scat? give me forty*five for the striker engine
kicked a lil’ n*gga out the gang ’cause he ain’t had no fighter in him
ridin’ with a glock and a drac’, can’t even buy no pistol
got fl!cked, now i’m lookin’ dumb as h*ll tryna hide them b*tches
i’m with lil lik throwin’ money at the hoes on the eastside
two glocks with thirty clips on ’em, look like the peace sign
pockets knotted up like i was f*ckin’ with a beehive
we run the m block, i’m finna sn*tch it off the street sign, n*gga
[outro: babyfxce e]
it’s with an x, n*gga
fxce
(ooh, 9ine block records)
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