Correction Paroles Mobsters par Ys

Featuring(s) : Sada Baby

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Paroles

(Ron-Ron load it up, Ron-Ron load it up)

[YS]
I'm in these streets everywhere like a lightpole
Ice on my neck, bitch, I'm froze, this a light show
.223's, they flip cars and kill high folks
My mind gone, it been this way for a while now (Ron-Ron do that shit)
Niggas hoes, I never fold, never bow down
I lost my niggas, my heart gone, I don't smile now
Young nigga goin' dumb, he got a thirty round
And he don't trust a soul, it's one up top when he ridin' 'round

[YS]
Bitch, I'm poppin' with that rocket, it's a nine in my pocket
From the nine, so I grind, nigga play, I'll pop it
Ten bands, twenty bands, put it all on your noggin
When we spin, it's Murder One, bitch, we comin', not talkin'
We be stalkin' while he walkin', walk up on him, then chalk him
Spray the crowd, ain't got no time for no case, f*ck a witness
And these streets'll get cold, use your eyes watch your pivot
Hit my knees for forgiveness, in the field, I been sinnin'
I can't struggle, gotta hustle, you gon' starve, I'ma get it
Put some titties on the chopper, they don't know when I'm finished
I was down, now I'm up, I'm gon' make sure they feel it
Came from banging at the park, shootouts with extensions
Knock 'em back, then double back, these niggas know that we trippin'
I'ma get it out of rap or I'ma whip in the kitchen
Knock 'em back, then double back, these niggas know that we trippin'
I'ma get it out of rap or I'ma whip in the kitchen

Never met the chicks, I fell in line with the robbers
Catch me hangin' with the mobsters, bitch, we came for the drama
I just bust down my neck, if he reach, it's a problem
So much shots, tell the doc he can move, switch the topic
Never met the chicks, I fell in line with the robbers
Catch me hangin' with the mobsters, bitch, we came for the drama
I just bust down my neck, if he reach, it's a problem
So much shots, tell the doc he can move, switch the topic (Hold up, huh)

[Sada Baby]
Change the motherf*ckin' topic 'cause I said so (Yeah)
He got muscles for no reason, Eric Bledsoe (Get it?)
He in the gym workin' out to get a headstone
Hit her from the back on the floor 'cause my legs long
Had her suckin' dick outside, she got a head cold (Mhm)
Shoot a nigga, end up in the county with a bed roll (Nigga)
Your nigga in the county and he poutin' 'cause your mans told (Snitchin')
You gon' end up in there with him, y'all best friends, ain't you?
I ain't got no best friends, this can in my hand paint you
At my wedding with no best man, the chopper in my pants, ain't it?
Huh, you ain't get no bands, I can tell by your stance, you fakin'
My nephew a Piru, at his high school dance bangin'
Red tux, red Chucks, Lambo' doors up, huh (Okay)
Niggas say they want smoke but they ain't blowin' nothin', hmm
Let the ho hold my nuts, now I don't owe her nothin'
You the type to tongue kiss a bitch and then throw her somethin', huh

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