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young bull & ralfy the plug - charles barkley lyrics
[intro: young bull]
(what are you gonna do? are you gonna k!ll me, mr. j?)
mm, n_gga
[verse 1: young bull]
hit stick, a n_gga put him on a stretcher
all my n_ggas play with tools, rock and roll, heavy metal
if it ain’t about no money, then it ain’t up on my schedule
if you can’t under [?] me then you better grab a shovel
all these hundreds in a duffel, can’t no n_gga tell me nothin’
blew a n_gga face off for talkin’ crazy in my comments
thirty_two shots, [?] nickname charles barkley
in the coupe goin’ crazy, i don’t even know how to start it
put him on a stretcher, better yet in a coffin
i’m outside every day, n_ggas never on sh_t
boogeyman on your block, mini drac, i keep a chop
wockhardt in my cup, sippin’ on exotic pop
[verse 2: ralfy the plug]
who’s that creepin’ in the foreign? it’s the boogeyman
sendin’ bullets at his head ’til the fully jam
only time you was in the bank gettin’ money when you was scammin’
not no blower, you’ll get smacked down raw at the b_tch [?] manor
them n_ggas ain’t really outside, they on instagram
“ralfy, put the blower away”, it’s just a fan
like divorce court, we’ll split his head
he work security for a bakery, he ain’t gettin’ no bread
b_tch, ain’t nothin’ for you to do except give me some head
you can’t f_ck with me, n_gga, you must’ve bumped your head
had his b_tch in the backseat doin’ what ralfy says
none of you hoes was lookin’ for me when i was in jail, the plug
[verse 3: duffy]
it’s time to give these ho n_ggas h_ll
every hood the stincs’ name ring a bell
mud walkin’ with the devil, wock in the holy grail
n_ggas say they gettin’ money, i can’t tell
droppin’ sh_lls, i don’t think they gon’ try that again
why these other n_ggas not goin’ up like otm?
got the new school crackin’, we the leaders of it
outside every day with the heater on me, n_gga
[verse 4: blue pesos]
chalk zone, blocked the play and caught charles barkley
i just sh_t bagged him, left him in a porta potty
flee the scene, we gotta go, i think i hear johnnies
i don’t know sh_t about no gun, i’m just a songwriter
street sweepers, stinc meaner, do some spring cleanin’
n_ggas cheerleaders, f_gs, and weird n_ggas
a bunch of cornb_lls, n_gga, we don’t know y’all
blame ’round me ’cause i’m c_cky, neck roll bouncin’
[verse 5: allblack]
at the edge of the bed with my iphone
bucket_ass n_gga with my mics on
hikin’ b_lls like the center in the red zone
ran outta nut, she still h_rny, put my mans on
friendly motherf_cker, every b_tch i got is shareable
last night, i took it overboard, i feel terrible
my mans turned opp, sh_t, the pain is unbearable
your rank and my rank is nowhere comparable
smash it from the back, i’m holdin’ on by her creases
took a whole bath and changed clothes up in neimans
i’m petty, i start smashin’ on a b_tch for no reason
i just chewed two x pills and n0body seen it
i run plays and i run on beats, willie beamen
i’m in the field grabbin’ all these n_ggas like i’m reavis
i gets nothin’ but b_tthead, b_tch, i’m beavis
can’t wait to go to h_ll so i can mob with all my demons
[outro: allblack]
black, thank you
thank you for f_ckin’ with me
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