lirik lagu yung gravy - the boys are back in town
[intro: yung gravy]
ayy
[verse 1: yung gravy]
b-tch, i’m dead fresh, i might pull up in a casket
you be lookin’ sweet like a f-ckin’ fruit basket
spit a couple racks, i get a check and johnny cash it
i smash it, i let your mama rock my sungl-sses
[verse 2: trippythakid]
don’t think n-body gonna f-ck with me like i do
look at me k!llin’ it, motherf-ckers always talkin’, but d-mnit, i’m high too
that means i don’t give a f-ck
[verse 3: yung gravy]
yeah, i wanna stunt
i make your salary thrice in a month
i pay your daddy to roll up my blunts
and he blow your allowance to pay for my lunch
[chorus: yung gravy]
you ain’t with the sh-ts, you ain’t with the sh-ts, you ain’t with the sh-ts
you ain’t with the sh-ts, ramirez with your b-tch (woah)
[verse 4: ramirez]
ride in the back of the truck with the pump, with a mask covering my face
double the glock ’cause i rip through the flesh
inside of the cutty with thing on my waist
kick in the door, point me to the safe
f-ckin’ the posters up with all the b-ss
heat-seeking missiles, i load up and hit you
i carry the coffin and drop it in grave (ho)
[chorus: yung gravy]
you ain’t with the sh-ts, you ain’t with the sh-ts, you ain’t with the sh-ts
you ain’t with the sh-ts, pouya with your b-tch
[verse 5: pouya]
i’m in my zone, i’m in my element, that’s daily regiment
i’m pullin’ up to gravy’s mama’s house with perfect etiquette, lil’ b-tch
(hey mom, look, the boys are back in town)
[verse 6: yung gravy]
lil’ b-tch, f-ck that
they been tryna k!ll me ’cause my bucks fat
my new b-tch so thick that i got lost up in the b-ttcrack
[verse 7: trippythakid]
i’m ready to give my guns back
hop back in the ring and i run that
rid of them off that love pack
i’m ’bout to be gettin’ my funds back
[verse 8: pouya]
smokin’ up on that swamp sack
cut back in the ‘lac off the prozac
pimpin’ these b-tches, i’m breakin ’em off as they hangin’ up off my n-ts-ck
baby bone, got a bone to pick with you, yeah
hold up, ricky bobby, i’m jacked up on mountain dew, yeah
[chorus: yung gravy]
you ain’t with the sh-ts, you ain’t with the sh-ts, you ain’t with the sh-ts
you ain’t with the sh-ts, trippy with your b-tch
[verse 9: trippythakid, yung gravy, & pouya]
mozzarella, marinara
put that sh-t up on my pasta
i just got the panamera, uh
only flexing ’cause i gots to
bought some dope and made it water
shark point to the lord near
come for your mother and daughter
puffin’ the indica harder
[interlude: pouya]
i just f-cked your b-tch in the back of my ’96 deville (woah, woohoo)
[verse 10: yung gravy]
b-tch, i’m dead fresh, i might pull up in a casket
you be lookin’ sweet like a f-ckin’ fruit basket
feel like i’m houdini when your sister let me smash it
i dive up in the coochie handcuffed for ten minutes
blindfolded, then escape, that’s magic
b-tch
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