YRN ft. Quazi Lyrics

Yeah

Young rich nigga, young lit nigga

You a broke nigga, bitch nigga

They was doubting on the kid

And now my name only gets bigger

Couple milli in the bank

That's why all them niggas big bitter

Y'all niggas do anything for the clout

You ain't really with the shit nigga

Boy I could hit up yo bitch

And tell her come fuck with a big tipper

Got the blicky in my pocket

Don't make me pull out the wig splitter

Tell them hating niggas stop it

Jewelry on me, I'm a big dripper

I ain't got no competition

My only threat it the man in the mirror

50 Bandz, 100 bandz

Get a bag, Get a bag

Young nigga getting money

Broke nigga's still mad

If you wanna feature the kid

Then you gotta send me the bag

As soon as I hop out the stu

Imma go hop I'm the lamb

4pf, word to lil baby

They know a nigga go crazy

Popping like crack in the 80s

And can't nobody say they made me

Young nigga getting rich

I might go fuck on your bitch

And my niggas ready to ride

So don't even fuck with the kid

Don't even fuck with the kid

My niggas come knock off your lid

If you want the smoke then it's up

My nigga it is what is is

Aye, look

I heard they looking for Quazi

They know not to try me

They Know where to find me at

Last nigga looking for Quazi

They trynna probably, find where his body at

If it ain't bout the posse, you out of pocket

I don't do lollygag

Only time for big checks, no chit-chat

And I don't even carry cash

Word to my mother

Give me a beat, if it's mine, imma touch it

Say you want smoke

Then why is you running

I find him, I catch him

We spit him, and gut I'm

Just like a game or a russian

Ain't about money

I promise it ain't a discussion

I swear we came up from nothing

I hear him quaking

So, we aim, he ducking

I'm in my bag

I do not care what these niggas or hoes think

You do the math

Multiply the numbers, that's how you add bank

I don't gotta ask

You see me in public, I bet your nose bleed

I know you mad

You getting bodied by a light skin with a nose ring

I'm bout to ged mad, mad

The gun in my backpack

So you better back, back

I'm dressed in all black

My niggas, they wit it

A nigga pull up in black masks

A different breed

You know I snap when I rap fast

You cap, that's bad

You cap, with no cash

Cat in the hat rapping

Your rap is half bad

Incredible nigga, so you would think that I'm dash

In four flat, the way I'm running these tracks

You know that we get it

It come to the money

we run up them bandz

Like fifties and hunnids

You play with my bread, you're six feet under

We spinning yo block in an all-black hummer

So you better watch your kids, your girl, and your mother

Feeling like tony, so hand me the burnner

And say hello to my little friend

I can send some niggas [to] come and do you in

I can send some niggas [to] blow your head off

You was talking big

What you scared for

Like biggie said, niggas dead wrong

They identify you by your headstone

They identify you by your dental records

Niggas want the smoke then we applying pressure

Fifty rounds in the fucking clip

And we unload them all if you ain't get the message