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lirik lagu ysr gramz & krispylife kidd - dubs outweigh losses

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[intro]
f~ck the fire, we got greese
it’s a wayne beat

[verse 1: ysr gramz]
this n~gga think he drinking real drank, but the wok fake
you the n~gga getting n~ggas locked, ’cause the cops ain’t
she asked me was this gun real? na, the glock fake
i heard these n~ggas out here backdooring, so i ride with drac
i’m in the car with krispylife, so i ride with k
n~gga, i’m still out here grinding, that’s why i rock with ray
b~tch skinny but her p~ssy big, coi leray
i’m out here dropping [?] off a n~gga, i’m in the stu at 8
i’m out here looking for a headhunter [?] my d~ck [?]
we gon’ shoot the f~ck out that n~gga, ’cause he 6/8
how you out here trapping? you don’t know what a brick weigh
f~ck around and drop a 41, yeah, big face
my n~gga kidd just hit a dirty b~tch, now his d~ck stank
my lil n~gga a young thug, he think he rich gang
don’t give a f~ck, shoot my opp at a pistins’ game
hit him with this glock, we turned him up, gave his ass some fame
i know you got some money, but the hoes really think you lame
we finna set him up, this n~gga think he gang
i probably miss with this glock, i won’t miss with k
it’s gon’ take a hundred boes, you wanna get this way
[verse 2: krispylife kidd]
dubs outweigh the losses
the back of my shoe say off white, [?] walking
so many straps round this b~tch, you gotta move with caution
my n~ggas licenced up to shoot you, they don’t do the charges
you want me to talk spicey, ok, then pay that
n~gga can’t [?] sh~t, i’m where he lay at
my lap is where your b~tch face at
you could never f~ck with none of us, n~gga, yeah, them straight facts
the baby glock make you [?] like it’s a pint of tech
got a freaky b~tch [?] tap
really smoking zas on this [?] pack
i really don’t wanna rap with you, bro, ’cause you kinda ass
i don’t pass gramz the wood, he eat all kind of ass
why the f~ck is you doing that?
technically, this a hundred [?] flip it [?]
you a lame n~gga with some cheese, you [?] rats
i’m around all solid n~ggas, i don’t fool with rats
talking greese on a greese beat, [?] got me too atached
you can’t f~ck with me and my caidence
this some bullsh~t [?] police [?]
feeling like yella beezy, all outa favors
your trap ain’t doing no trapping, you outa flavors
you [?] long time, you [?]
you [?] putting your parents in danger
[?] lot on these, just to f~ck ’em up out in traffic
never going to my crib, make them suck me up out in trafic
paid 2 k for this pistol, the f~ck i’ma do [?]
dawg tryna eat healthy, he’d die for salid


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