lirik lagu youngboy never broke again – got one
[intro]
(skeeo, you crazy)
4ktrey
we put guns to the face
ain’t n0body safe, who gon’ die today?
it’s a murder business
four, four
uh, uh, four, huh, four, four, uh, uh, four
f~ck it up, f~ck it up, four
uh, uh, f~ck it up, f~ck it up, it’s top, n~gga
[pre~chorus]
had to tell lil’ mama “bag it up”, come here, drop that ass on me
we got sticks inside this f~ckin’ truck, you play, they whack your ass for free
bro died, i was down for weeks, i was on plenty drugs
dog hoes talk down on me, but f~ck ’em, i got plenty love
[chorus]
from the streets to the cellblock, he got red dot, hollows hot
it get steep, play with pale stuff ’til my arm lock, i scr~pe the pot
gangster b~tch tryna hold me down, she see i frown and wonder why
surveillance sit outside my home, tryna take me down, i’m duckin’ cops
[verse]
i’m a thug n~gga, f~ck you, b~tch, i got gravеdiggers
run with me, i’ll bust you, you b~tch
f~ck the campus, i’m at school with that stick
you gon’ gеt bluesed, you get hit
break all the rules, get ’em fixed
cutthroat, ain’t complyin’ with sh~t
mama, k!ll these p~ssy n~ggas that’s dissin, now, you know i gotta
i’m tryna shoot the hoes that’s with ’em ’cause i’m a f~ckin’ problem
i’m gon’ pop somethin, i run with sticks, they all be goblins
i be head huntin’, lil’ bro just called and said he got one
had to tell lil’ mama, “bag it up,” come here, drop that ass on me
stacks inside my pants, i got ’em neat, i come up from the streets
hold on, stop this b~tch, i bag ’em up, shoot first, now come run up on me
i leave out red, i bang that green, don’t diss out peace, best keep your heat
[chorus]
from the streets to the cellblock, he got red dot, hollows hot
it get steep, play with pale stuff ’til my arm lock, i scr~pe the pot
gangster b~tch tryna hold me down, she see i frown and wonder why
surveillance sit outside my home, tryna take me down, i’m duckin’ cops
[verse 2]
get the drop, we pop an opp
load up, send my brothers out
we kept plenty sticks at papa house
before you know, they roll me out
they posted up, we spun around
lil’ bro, let my window down
this k come out, we spray around
fall, can’t shoot back, we leave you found
top ain’t known to f~ck around, 4tre 38 made me
on lock up, guards gon’ slam me down, these b~tches ain’t gon’ slave me
on phones, watch what you say to me, come face to me, they might raid me
can’t leave trace when we sling heat, still probably at the crib with a .223
[outro]
mama, k!ll these p~ssy n~ggas that’s dissin, now, you know i gotta
i’m tryna shoot the hoes that’s with ’em ’cause i’m a f~ckin’ problem
i’m gon’ pop somethin, i run with sticks, they all be goblins
i be head huntin’, lil’ bro just called and said he got one
had to tell lil’ mama “bag it up”, come here, drop that ass on me
we got sticks inside this f~ckin’ truck, you play, they whack your ass for free
bro died, i was down for weeks, i was on plenty drugs
dog hoes talk down on me, but f~ck ’em, i got plenty love
(skeeo, you crazy)
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