Текст пісні
It's Young Jay
Huh
You can find me in that concrete jungle (In the field)
I be surfing in these J's (Huh)
I been up for three days (What)
Just me and my Glock, I'm tryna get paid (Get paid)
In the rental switching lanes, praying for better days (Better days)
Free my bro 'til they open up the gates (Free big bro)
Did a lot of shit, never talk to the jakes (Fuck 'em)
Did a lot of shit, but they could never call me fake (Never)
Yeah, they wanna hate, chopper penetrate (Brrat, brrat)
No mistakes, we didn't come here to play (No)
Grab all the bricks, told 'em open up the safe (Gimme that)
He don't cooperate, chopper eating up his face (Boom)
Snitching on the case, that ain't how we operate
And if I catch a body, I'm going out of state (Meet me on the plane)
And yeah, if I'm hungry, I'm eating off your plate (Ugh)
The Central California homie, known for snatching chains (Yeah)
And when I'm in the West (Huh), you know I got a thang (What)
Don't be on my block, pussy, you can't hang (No cap)
And don't throw up the L if you ain't from the gang (What)
I count money daily, but I still be in pain (Still in pain)
Smoking on the Cookie, kill the cells in my brain
I kill anybody, everybody for the gang (Yeah)
I just want the money, y'all can keep the fame
You in love with the bitch (Huh), I just want her brain
You love that bitch, she love cocaine (Cocaine)
I like to save money, don't like to make it rain (Make it rain)
We pouring up Henny, we don't do champagne (Pour it up)
We all got Glocks, no more .38s (Huh)
And no more broke homies, we all getting paid
If your hood tripping, y'all all getting sprayed (Huh)
I ain't gon' stop grinding 'til we all in a Wraith (What)
No face, no case (Huh), be on the money chase (Huh)
Got money on the way (Yeah), old bitch got replaced
Hundred bands in my safe, Young Jay, I'm the great
I'm a mack, so I send thots
Big guap, I got ten spots
Make the dope lock, I'm from Warlock
Yeah, I sold coke
Yeah, I sold pills
Yeah, I smoke loud
And if you with the people, we shooting up the whole crowd (Brrat)
Yelling free big bro 'til they let him out the dog pound (Free my bro)
Yeah, I grab the beat, kill it with the right sound
They said they want beef, that's why I bought a four-pound (Pound)
Posted at the park, chopper by the playground (Playground)
On the road trapping, state-to-state
Like a Greyhound (Like a Greyhound)
In my Beans voice, get down or lay down (Lay down)
Never had an option, always kick a door down (Yeah)
Yeah, how I'm high when I'm riding '
Round your town (Riding 'round the way)
Nah, I wasn't lying when I said I dicked your ho down (That's a fact)
Bitches call me Young Mack, you can call me Young Jay
Sixteen, AR-15, I'm 'bout that gunplay (Brrat)
Freaky white bitch (Brrat), all she know is tongue play (Tongue play)
You looking for me, I be posted on the one-way
Bought another chopper, I need another gun safe (Gun safe)
Shot your homie down, looking at me the wrong way (Look at me)
I don't like to play, bitch, play with your kids (Kids)
And I won't apologize, bitch, it is what it is (Is what it is)
And I don't love you, bitch, I love my SIG (My moppa)
And I don't trust you, ho, can't even trust my kin
Know you a ho, ain't gotta pretend (Yeah)
She swallow my kids, I leave and never called her again (Again)
Destined to win, could never forget a life full of sin (Yeah)
I tried to repent, but never could quit, I'm sicker than sick
And when I whip it on the pot, you see
The flick of the wrist (Look at it)
I get the dough, bring it back, then that bitch dismissed (The feds)
Yeah, they hate to see you win, they against that shit
Being broke as a kid, I don't miss that shit
I see my lil' homies (Straight out of
Texas), I give 'em twenties and tens
All my homies in the trap, we just getting it in
Gotta win, gotta do it, I ain't losing again (Yeah)
They be hiding, so I'm shooting they friends (Boom)
Four homies strapped up, laying low in
A van (There he go right there, boom)
Bounce up, walk up, drum line like cannon
Yeah, they running, they panicked, yeah, this chopper do damage
Twenty rounds, FMJ's (Load it up) in this 1911
Bloody shoes, red bottoms, that's from stomping his head in
Consequences if you don't where my bread end, huh