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lirik lagu yung simmie - str8 savage

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[verse 1: yung simmie]
these n-ggas lightweight fightin a champion
i pull up with the simmie n-ggas askin what happen
yeah i spit dope like a n-gga be trappin
flow wet can you p-ss me a napkin?
imma vet with yo b-tch i be makin it happen
you a internet thug talkin bout you be clappin
i’m a real like mac told yo b-tch cuz she asked me
flow just nasty
all in yo face like acne
coolin wit my dogs like sh-ggy
my b-tch hold a strap no tranny
i’m concrete you candy
hot fire flame might make your b-tch fan me
shots at your family
glock to your granny
i run up in yo yard like the dog don’t scare me
he get two shots too
you step dad and your pops too
now your stuck and its not glue
i can draw one glock cuz i got two
i spit thunderbolts
i’m riachu
i put the guns away
and mike tys’ you
i give em straight bars i indite you
no fed tho
hollow tips straight to a n-gga head tho
i cut his ease off
make him beg tho
i tell my girlfriend
grab his legs hoe
i cut his head off i’m the head honcho

[verse 2: denzel curry]
what the f-ck is up with these n-ggas conscious
i do a n-gga like how drizzy did common
common sense i am not the one to plot against
cuz you know curry is ultimate
coming down coming round hearing a hundred rounds
i’m from a place where they run it down
even tho its the future it feels like the past and the present is p-ssin my blunt around
will it ever change like a parking meter when i park n-ggas spark the heat up
man down or nelson mandela put behind the bars
we the best seller in the underground i’m the best seller
n-ggas think i sold out
only way that to happen is if they took my soul out
all swag re [?]
in that’s no doubt
take em out missin like they whoopie goldberg’s eyebrows
didn’t like to hear me now they fear me
this for all the n-ggas who dont know bout the truth
why you think the magazines cover people like you
you ain’t talkin bout sh-t yet they do what you do
corruptin to youth
invasion of the wack sh-t to lame
this is a taste test of my black d-ck
f-ckin up environment
lives in the entire run
face the wrath of my mothaf-ckin gallic gun
b-tches ain’t sh-t and n-ggas ain’t either
i am not kidding i’ll send em to a reaper
that’s a jk that’s a d-mn shame how the game played late
raised in the un-tamed county of dade


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