Grafh - You Mad Yet Remix lyrics
[Intro] Shout out to my n***a Chris mp3 west baby Yea welcome to Brooklyn [Verse 1] I turn up n***a I turn up yea a n***a took all No more back burner still I shoot a n***a head Like a tree burner if it ain't about the cash then It don't concern us guranteed young and thuggin No n***a I'm in my own lane ain't no n***a get it Like I get it you mad though tell me why you mad b**h I've been home two years I keep them happy [Verse 2] Don't f** around with that doe now no more one on Ones I can code now the realest n***a in the game At the streets it's about time they all going to say the Same keep it coming to yourself f** ghetto pain I'm A big dog n***a don't play with your chair p**y n***a You going to need a insurance I got some n***as that Will k** for me that's the shine [Verse 3] Yea all black all like me tone throwing gang signs get You reef thrown my n***as from the hood call me see About it eating season salad up in season palace I got Bad b**hes coming with me and blowing cheques rolio Around My wrist I could bought a vet you is a batty boy n***a you is a f** boy my drug dealer pa** got me Paranoid black bandon and free Harry Louver If it ain't The Audi mar then I'm a wear the Mula finessing is an Auto war you better have a ruler remix the n***a like a Diddy song the work touch down I'm a get and go that Pistol got them talking fast busy bomb I'm still eating From my last sh** middle finger is you mad yet [Verse 4] I was mash up the black flur burn so I bought another one Broke up with my girl last night and f**ed another one Open up the longer tall case brought the longer one Keep my feet on these p**y n***a like alright is son Homie you ain't mad yet you see me doing are we there Yet cop s**ing n***as still watching you ain't feds yet Money over bull sh** family over everything KOB show Them to the club wearing heavy bling making n***as Mad make these n***as want to k** me hustle real Hard these young gang bang feelin me it's certified the More you hate me the more you get it get them mad get Them angry and that's the way that we live [Verse 5] Glad that my n***a Turk back home disloyal n***a stab you In the backbone real n***as real n***as they only can relate I'm in the kitchen I'll be whipping macharoni till it's baked that n***a phony his whole existence is only a mistake time bomb Ticking like a rolly when It's fake this is only for the great for All my homies in parole it's great weather it's better ruler for The state I go but lonely my soldier was possessed by the Trappers drug dealer dressed like a rapper n***a I got it Fresh about a rapper got it fresh about a batter I got s** by The plotter whoa some clopping till their guns rotten I might Pop it off in public where everyone watching I got to get a Dollar myself holding n***a on Instagram trying to follow Myself you heard