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young nudy - first day out lyrics
[verse 1]:
(nope)
i ain’t going back to jail n-gg- f-ck 12
tryna hold me down p-ssy yeah i paid bail
p-ssy n-gg- snitchin’ so they tried to give me 12 (years)
12, plus a mother f-ckin’ l
elbow, h-ll nah i got those
jugged a mothaf-cka for a elbow
caught his -ss down bad right on gresham road
did his -ss real bad right at the texaco
then i split that sh-t off right on bouldercrest road
right there at the mother f-ckin’ texaco
yeah… at the texaco… at the texaco
[verse 2]:
b-tch im bouldercrest shawty
gotta keep a 40
these n-gg-s claim they bout it where’s yo 40?
nudy got that 30 hanging out the end of yo 40
i ain’t never seen you walking with that glock 40
that 40 with that 30 with that extension is you wit it?
you know i like them 30’s you can call me king extension
and all my money stenchin’ yea it take a long distance
to try to touch a n-gg- like me is you tripping
you must ain’t got not heart
p-ssy n-gg- i ain’t got no heart
you must think you the one thought you was gon’ pull my card
you must got me f-cked up aye boy do i look like your broad
mother f-cker do i look like a d-ld- i ain’t no toy
i will do you down bad
i will do you wrong
you better stay in the child’s play cause little boy you not grown
i pull up to yo house yeah i’ll take sh-t straight to yo home
and you know i’m bout that georgia sh-t yeah i’m takin off yo dome
(load up another one f-ck that! we gon’ spray all this sh-t up i don’t give a f-ck!)
i hate these fake -ss n-gg-s (all that fake -ss gangsta sh-t…. p-ssy!)
[verse 3]:
first of all…
they wanna be a gangsta then they turn into a b-tch
they wanna be a shooter but they turn into a snitch
they got money on my head but n-gg- i ain’t scared of sh-t
they claimed they tried to off me n-gg- i ain’t dead yet
where the f-ck the checks at
where the f-ck yo shooters at
where the f-ck them gangsters at that you talking bout
where the f-ck them shooters that claim they pulled up at my house
well they won’t pull up right now
still the same young n-gg- with that 30 hanging out
still the same young n-gg- that’ll shoot yo mamas house
clock that mother f-cker with a hundred round drum
i don’t give a f-ck i’ll spark that b-tch up
have that b-tch looking just like the fourth of july
420 b-tch smoke that blunt cause i stay high
n-gg- you not built like i
you more like that mother f-cker named t.i
i’m more like gucci p-ssy yea i love shooting
don’t make me catch a body b-tch at my slime nudy
i don’t care bout b-tches i just f-ck all these groupies
and treat them hoes like speds cause all these hoes stupid
[verse 4]:
n-gg- shoot at my van b-tch i’m bussing back
i ain’t put 12 on no n-gg- ion know nothin bout that
n-gg- shoot my grandma house so b-tch i’m bussin’ back
i ain’t put 12 on no n-gg- ion know bout that
mama ain’t raise no hoe
mama raised me a kick door
mama told me as a young n-gg-
better go get you some dough
so first thing came to my head i need a glock that hold 30 more
soon as i kicked my first door
i found bout a brick or f-ckin’ more
[outro]:
they ain’t know
i ain’t know
sh-t, so f-ck em
they ain’t gotta know
if they ain’t know, then we don’t know neither
f-ck all them mother f-ckas
all them mother f-ckas telling
first n-gg- talk gansta be the last n-gg- to go f-ck with 12
boy you’s a b-tch!
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