That's Why - Young Nudy

I got all kinds

All type of sticks and it ain’t no lie

Nigga wanna play, I’ma pull up with fire

Draco, AR-15 with the beam on

Y’all ain’t gon' wanna play, bro, you like stay home (Bro, you like stay home,

yeah)

Yeah, loaded full, loaded paper, loaded baked potato (Yeah)

I got them young niggas ready to blaze ya

Y’all niggas playin', I turn you to a vapor (Vapor)

More and more money, more and more haters

Sticks-R-Us, they know not to play with us

Grown man shit, nigga, you’s a dummy

Smokin' crack rock, nigga, you’s a junky (Junky)

You like to fall off track, you’s a flunky

Back in the traphouse for me, I get money

With this rap shit, nigga, I’m back to my gunnin'

Got my chains on, nigga ain’t taking nothin'

In the booth turned up, nigga, I got money

Tryna have this bitch lit from Monday through Sunday

Loaded, loaded, bank account got paper

Loaded, loaded Glock for my hater

Pop in your house like I’m Freddy Krueger

Young nigga, Glock with the Ruger, ooh

I don’t really like to do the Rugers, ooh

Some of y’all niggas do what they gotta do

And they like to do what they gotta do

Paid 'em in full just to come and shoot

Boy, you know you through, boy, you know you done

And they got the gun, boy, you better run

They don’t wanna hear the gunfire

They don’t wanna see their partner die

They don’t wanna see their mama cry

Pissin' on your grave when you die

Got no remorse, no lie

Get your get-back, yeah, pussy ass nigga

But you can’t, pussy nigga, 'cause you died, yeah (Ahaha)

But you can’t, pussy nigga, 'cause you died, yeah

Yeah, I got my dawgs, man, put shit in the bowl

They ain’t ate in a minute, they’ll shake ya, yeah, yeah

In Beverly, nigga, this money don’t make us, yeah, yeah

Came from the hood, OG’s didn’t make us, yeah

Fuck is you talkin' 'bout, nigga?

(Yeah)

What is they talking 'bout?

Nothin', they bluffin'

Talking 'bout money, but they ain’t gettin' nothin'

I can see it, nigga, you ain’t doin' nothin'

Look at your pockets, man, you ain’t got nothin'

I’m like, «Damn, bruh, that don’t make no sense»

You ain’t got no money, not even fifty cents

You can’t buy no fucking cigarette or shit

Talking 'bout beefin', man, put that to an end

I cannot beef with no J, you not my friend

I’ma chase the money if it ain’t comin' in

Play with more money than I ever did

I had to cut 'em off, I found they wasn’t in

Keep me a money counter 'cause it print

I’m thumbin' through money, thumbin' through this shit

I got these hoes in the trap bent

Thumb in her booty, Perc' kickin' in

Hit her from the back, now I’m going in

Suck me up, bitch had say hello to my friend

Mini, mini, mini MAC-10

And the car black tint

Late night, she suckin', fuckin'

That ain’t nothin'

Thinking 'bout the time I had her with her friend

I just reminisce

Pop in your house like I’m Freddy Krueger

Young nigga, Glock with the Ruger, ooh

I don’t really like to do the Rugers, ooh

Some of y’all niggas do what they gotta do

And they like to do what they gotta do

Paid 'em in full just to come and shoot

Boy, you know you through, boy, you know you done

And they got the gun, boy, you better run

They don’t wanna hear the gunfire

They don’t wanna see their partner die

They don’t wanna see their mama cry

Pissin' on your grave when you die

Got no remorse, no lie

Get your get-back, yeah, pussy ass nigga

But you can’t, pussy nigga, 'cause you died, yeah (Ahaha)

But you can’t, pussy nigga, 'cause you died, yeah