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ybf k sauce - come outside lyrics
[hook]
made it out the trenches, got no option
b_tch i had to
on that paper chase, i ran it up
you know that’s past due
you know we got glocks, we got 9s
we got macs too
pop out at lil’ brodie crib
show ’em what that mac do
drop my addy in that live
them n_ggas still ain’t slide ’bout it
told him if he shootin’ ’bout that b_tch
then he gon’ die ’bout it
we don’t give no f_ck bout that talkin’
come outside ’bout it
ridin’ wit them heaters, tryna get a n_gga fried ’bout it
[verse]
we got choppas wit them clips, thas how we ridin’ n_gga
gon’ and give yo mama back them sticks if you ain’t slidin’ n_gga
he told me he gon’ pop me when he see me, why u lyin’ n_gga
all that flexin’ for thesе hoes why these p_ssy n_ggas dyin’ n_gga
thеy know imma pop my sh_t, and these hoes, they can’t get up off my d_ck
they know imma slang that stick, a f_ck n_gga think he talkin’ sl!ck
they know i `came straight out the bottom, i’m chasin’ that guala ’til i’m gettin’ rich
they kno i’ll shoot him and his potna, if he got a problem, i’m f_ckin’ his b_tch
before the pandemic, my n_ggas was still masked up, goin’ on hits
before the pandemic, my n_gga still had gloves on, loadin’ up bl!cks
they all on the net wit’ sh_t, these b_tch n_ggas tryna get on a list
i knew i would make it, ain’t know i could rap, i just started takin’ risks
[hook]
made it out the trenches, got no option
b_tch i had to
on that paper chase, i ran it up
you know that’s past due
you know we got glocks, we got 9s
we got macs too
pop out at lil’ brodie crib
show ’em what that mac do
drop my addy in that live
them n_ggas still ain’t slide ’bout it
told him if he shootin’ ’bout that b_tch
then he gon’ die ’bout it
we don’t give no f_ck bout that talkin’
come outside ’bout it
ridin’ wit them heaters, tryna get a n_gga fried ’bout it
[verse]
these lil’ n_ggas p_ssy they be on ig live ’bout it
i ain’t wit the cappin’ sh_t
and i ain’t wit’ the trappin’ b_tch
but i still make bread off all of my songs
even if it’s half a l!ck
that glock got a beam
he couldn’t survive it if i asked to miss
head shot
red dot
i call all my n_ggas deadshot
they hittin’ dreadlocks
n_ggas say i ain’t hardest
them lil’ n_ggas fanned out
they like “sauce, how many hits you got?”
i’m thinkin’ 10 now
nah i’m thinkin’ 20 now
all them hoes was dissin’ on me
they tryna get wit’ me now
all them exes that said f_ck me tryna say they miss me now
i’m like f_ck it, you ain’t f_ck wit’ me when i ain’t have sh_t
don’t be tryna double back soon as i got a bag b_tch
[hook]
made it out the trenches, got no option
b_tch i had to
on that paper chase, i ran it up
you know that’s past due
you know we got glocks, we got 9s
we got macs too
pop out at lil’ brodie crib
show ’em what that mac do
drop my addy in that live
them n_ggas still ain’t slide ’bout it
told him if he shootin’ ’bout that b_tch
then he gon’ die ’bout it
we don’t give no f_ck bout that talkin’
come outside ’bout it
ridin’ wit them heaters, tryna get a n_gga fried ’bout it
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