lirik lagu ysr gramz - true fit
[intro]
(good lookin’, cali)
good lookin’, cali
yung sak runner
ysr sh~t
[chorus]
first off, f~ck the police, let my pops out
scary~ass opp hidin’ in the house, tell him pop out
a million~dollar n~gga, they finna school, i’m a dropout
he only poured a line in that pop, pour the rest out
always takin’ pictures with that glock but never shoot that b~tch
honey pack off the don juli, that’s my coochie kit
unc’ owed a cent but still trap, he got a gucci ‘fit
all your friends died from a bullet, it’s an uzi clip (lil’ uzi)
[verse]
everybody hit that lil’ p~ssy, you ain’t bougie, b~tch
soon as you ask a n~gga for somethin’, that’s when you losin’ it, b~tch
i want some fire~ass head and the movies, b~tch
i used to trap all day in a coogie ‘fit (in a coogie ‘fit)
i’d never love a thot in my truey ‘fit
he always got that gun on him, never shoot that sh~t
a light ten bands on me, we can shoot this sh~t
how you get them cali ‘bows here? i just flew that sh~t (i just flew ’em)
f~ck internet beef, n~gga, drop your dot (n~gga, drop that)
gettin’ bored with the money, i’m finna drop a watch
your mama was a ho back then, that is not your pops (that ain’t your daddy, n~gga)
if it’s smoke, let me know, i’d spin your block
i’m with my yns today, they got all glocks (my young n~ggas)
bro just poured up some lean, it look like yellow snot (it look like yellow snot)
bro let me trap out her crib and granny called the cops
tig sittin’ in the feds, free baby oc
i can’t wait to f~ck your bm when that baby drop
a hundred rounds out the draco got the barrel hot (sh~t)
we ain’t recordin’ on lebeau street, we at rell spot (we at rell spot)
i’d put your favorite rap n~gga in a headlock (on my mama)
.223 knock a f~ck n~gga dreads out
bro said he don’t sip green, he sip red now
they hit him with that bl!ck, rp mode, that n~gga bled out
i’ma keep squeezin’ this b~tch ’til i ran out
huh, i mean run out
two n~ggas hopped out the whip, he got walked down
n~gga, you ain’t gon’ never get no p~ssy ’cause you talk down (talk down)
i don’t wanna hit your weed, that weed was brown (sh~t)
[chorus]
first off, f~ck the police, let my pops out
scary~ass opp hidin’ in the house, tell him pop out
a million~dollar n~gga, they finna school, i’m a dropout
he only poured a line in that pop, pour the rest out
always takin’ pictures with that glock but never shoot that b~tch
honey pack off the don juli, that’s my coochie kit
unc’ owed a cent but still trap, he got a gucci ‘fit
all your friends died from a bullet, it’s an uzi clip (lil’ uzi, n~gga)
[outro]
yung sak runner, n~gga, lsp forever, you know what the f~ck goin’ on, n~gga, i ain’t gotta keep sayin’ it, n~gga
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