(You would fly too if you linked up with Frenchie) uh
Oh, Lord, I need Your help again (uh, Lord)
Oh, Lord
Oh, Lord, I need you (Lord)
Trey called, said the feds got my boy and they put me out
Bro ain't do it, but they still gave him life without
And I'm beefin' with every side, I can't get caught without
And I told brother 'nem it's a go, I'll do it, withdraw the account
And bro called, said, "I gotta turn myself in"
So I gotta hold this shit down 'til he get out, uh
And this morning, I just got picked for XXL
They gave me a plaque, I don't know if I'm goin' up or goin' to jail
And I told my titi no before she died
And every time Shamika bring up Zai, I think about his cell
Feel like that was the first young nigga that died that had all the
All the young niggas and shit, goin' up and shit, like
He was the first young nigga got whacked, like
That's when I knew this shit was for real, like
I done really found out a nigga really can get smacked
And I ain't been on the phone, don't wanna talk, just hit Big E
Uh, then Yak called, said another shootout was on his street
Yak called back and said the young nigga died
Young nigga had got killed
My man Jay was Yak young nigga, but, I, I, I
It was, it was like my young nigga too, though, but
It just, he was so close with Yak, that's why it hit Lil Yak so hard
I remember titi used to get beat up by her other man
I saw Quinn buy his first gun, they ain't hit his mama again
And I took a risk to get my ass ends
And free Lil Cam, right after prom, it's off to pen'
Man, I'll never forget how Fredia killed Quinn
And I'll never forget who gave his mama that fin
At this point, gotta take this shit for what it is
Ever since Lil Hot blew up on that shit, we ain't talked in years
I'm tired of cryin', wish I could sell some of these tears
And I never forgot how many shots they gave Jerrell
Lord, oh, Lord, I need You, Lord
Oh, Lord, I need Your help again
Lord (oh, Lord), oh, Lord, I need You
YTB Fatt - On Zai Album Lyrics
YTB Fatt - On Zai Lyrics
Writer: Cavon Paige
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
3 In The Morning
Uh, tss
Uh
Uh
Uh
Uh
It's like three in the morning, walkin' 'round the house
Sayin', "Damn, I did it"
Ten bed rooms, just got off the phone with Chloe
And told her I miss her, my niecey
Post my lo', they'll get me
My car, a supercharged engine
I know all the shit I know 'cause I listen
This time of year, boy, I know he with me, the cue
They got a guy for the job
When I did, I ain't show 'em a penny (frrt)
They killed my lil' brother
I left them alone, but I'm back in it
If I do anything, I'm gone
Crittenden County, gon' try to ship me to prison
I told lil' J, "Lay off the bars a little, I need you with me"
Sellin' roaches, yeah, then I'm litty
I'ma get you a million if you comin' to get me
Really didn't know Moneybagg Yo, but we linked up and touched some millions
Uh, tss
But that ain't why I love you, nigga (what else?)
You showed me real love
You could've did that to any other young nigga
Tss, uh, caught up in my thoughts, tss
I told the treesh, "You should've just shipped them off"
Plank, tss, I think the feds involved, tss
I don't know, I'm finna link with grandma, spend time in a park
'Til then, I'm shinin' hard (oh)
Seven, eight hundred cars
I ain't seen this shit, on God
Everything large (Loaf)
I wish Lil Yak could see this picture I'm paintin' (on God)
I feel you, bro, but you gotta understand, the hood let me score
Some make it, some don't
But we the ones, God just hold the balls
Some made it, some didn't
What you know about a nigga makin' you crawl? (Frrt)
Some make it, some don't
I'm talkin' 'bout a hundred piece (baow)
What you know 'bout meetin' the plug? Talkin' 'bout a hundred Ps
Tell Pimp K, "I'm sorry"
'Cause Quinn died with me
Sometimes, I'm callin' Ayesha
'Cause I found they blockin' me
I'm afraid, they killed Quinn and hit my knee
That shit right there, I couldn't think about
My mama, your mama sisters
Matter fact, they both together at the house
You my kin, I'm your rival
I'm breakin' the pen when Ms involved
And a Fox don't cross a Fox, that's law
Twenty-five, doin' time, I hide in that car (oh)
If shit go left, know be there, help me out
Ah, I'm at war with the cities
And I'm make sure I'm the biggest, f*ck the north, east side, and the south (tss)
I saw niggas be charged by shuttin' they mouth
Bagg came and got me, but the day before, they took my auntie life
I know when somethin' ain't right (tss)
Play with anything that I love, I'm comin' up out this ice
Ooh
Uh
Uh
Uh
Uh
It's like three in the morning, walkin' 'round the house
Sayin', "Damn, I did it"
Ten bed rooms, just got off the phone with Chloe
And told her I miss her, my niecey
Post my lo', they'll get me
My car, a supercharged engine
I know all the shit I know 'cause I listen
This time of year, boy, I know he with me, the cue
They got a guy for the job
When I did, I ain't show 'em a penny (frrt)
They killed my lil' brother
I left them alone, but I'm back in it
If I do anything, I'm gone
Crittenden County, gon' try to ship me to prison
I told lil' J, "Lay off the bars a little, I need you with me"
Sellin' roaches, yeah, then I'm litty
I'ma get you a million if you comin' to get me
Really didn't know Moneybagg Yo, but we linked up and touched some millions
Uh, tss
But that ain't why I love you, nigga (what else?)
You showed me real love
You could've did that to any other young nigga
Tss, uh, caught up in my thoughts, tss
I told the treesh, "You should've just shipped them off"
Plank, tss, I think the feds involved, tss
I don't know, I'm finna link with grandma, spend time in a park
'Til then, I'm shinin' hard (oh)
Seven, eight hundred cars
I ain't seen this shit, on God
Everything large (Loaf)
I wish Lil Yak could see this picture I'm paintin' (on God)
I feel you, bro, but you gotta understand, the hood let me score
Some make it, some don't
But we the ones, God just hold the balls
Some made it, some didn't
What you know about a nigga makin' you crawl? (Frrt)
Some make it, some don't
I'm talkin' 'bout a hundred piece (baow)
What you know 'bout meetin' the plug? Talkin' 'bout a hundred Ps
Tell Pimp K, "I'm sorry"
'Cause Quinn died with me
Sometimes, I'm callin' Ayesha
'Cause I found they blockin' me
I'm afraid, they killed Quinn and hit my knee
That shit right there, I couldn't think about
My mama, your mama sisters
Matter fact, they both together at the house
You my kin, I'm your rival
I'm breakin' the pen when Ms involved
And a Fox don't cross a Fox, that's law
Twenty-five, doin' time, I hide in that car (oh)
If shit go left, know be there, help me out
Ah, I'm at war with the cities
And I'm make sure I'm the biggest, f*ck the north, east side, and the south (tss)
I saw niggas be charged by shuttin' they mouth
Bagg came and got me, but the day before, they took my auntie life
I know when somethin' ain't right (tss)
Play with anything that I love, I'm comin' up out this ice
Ooh
Writer: Cavon Paige
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
I'm Scarred
We currently do not have these lyrics.
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Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
What Happened
[YTB Fatt]
(Ayy, what's happenin', C2?)
(You'll fly too if you link up with frenchie)
Hoo, uh (Yo, Ben)
What happened? Uh, hoo, uh
He indicted (Hoo)
And them bodies he caught, he glad he ain't lifin' (He thankful)
And that switch go everywhere he go, he licensed (Hoo)
His mama don't know, but he punch packs like Tyson
For the right amount of cheese in my city, they'll treat it like ISIS (Hoo)
F*ck every side in the city, it's up, no typin' (Hoo)
Leave that shit alone, faker, they don't wanna be like you (F*ck him)
This right here some grown man smoke
I don't tell you and you don't tell on me, that's how I like it (Hoo)
I piped you up, how you ain't gon' like me?
He slang that K like he licensed
He don't even play by the rules, got shot before, he gon' shoot 'fore he fight you
He don't even answer to the phone no more, for what?
'Cause half the men he had on the road with him caught indictments
You snatch your chain, he'll snatch you
He just get paid for it, he ain't a rapper
He got shit on his head, so he travel with smackers
He so f*ckin' loaded, he can buy two Phantoms
Seen whackers get whacked by whackers (What else?)
The jackers, jacked by jackals
He a real robber, he tried to rob another robber, but they f*cked 'round and smacked him
They had him, don't get caught lackin'
He ain't gon' perform without the backend
Know how to whack the switch, he don't do nothin' but tap it
Found out he was a rat, kick him out of the Fox den
Kill somethin', kept the phone with him, they tracked it
Can't nobody ever get seen with the lackin'
They hit his trap, he don't even wanna trap again
He don't work with killers, he know they'll clap 'em (Hoo)
He indicted (Hoo)
And them bodies he caught, he glad he ain't lifin' (He thankful)
And that switch go everywhere he go, he licensed (Hoo)
His mama don't know, but he punch packs like Tyson
For the right amount of cheese in my city, they'll treat it like ISIS (Hoo)
F*ck every side in the city, it's up, no typin' (Hoo)
Leave that shit alone, faker, they don't wanna be like you (F*ck him)
This right here some grown man smoke
I don't tell you and you don't tell on me, that's how I like it (Hoo)
[Lil Baby]
You know for a fact I'm not just a regular rapper, oh, yeah
We sellin' thousand, I'm not just a regular trapper, what else?
I run with the smackers, the hustlers, the players, the pimps, for real
She hold these pounds and these chains, I'm payin' her rent
Catch a body, beat a body, rap about it, he trim
She a baddie, I done had her ask about me, I'm him
Ain't droppin', still runnin' laps around me, for real
Same spot, still servin' packs around here, until—
Baby had turned me on, white toes too, got a fetish for 'em
Yeah, I'm with my Memphis bro, sell out the FedEx Forum
Why you on songs actin' like you lit? They know that you dead-ass wrong
Yeah, I be goin' Rolex, AP, Richard, I got a Patek on
Ayy, big bro comin' home, free Nate
[YTB Fatt]
He indicted (Hoo)
And them bodies he caught, he glad he ain't lifin' (He thankful)
And that switch go everywhere he go, he licensed (Hoo)
His mama don't know, but he punch packs like Tyson
For the right amount of cheese in my city, they'll treat it like ISIS (Hoo)
F*ck every side in the city, it's up, no typin' (Hoo)
Leave that shit alone, faker, they don't wanna be like you (F*ck him)
This right here some grown man smoke
I don't tell you and you don't tell on me, that's how I like it (Hoo)
[YTB Fatt]
The manager, I manage him in the backseat, everybody he love up the road
Anything come out his mouth, they know it's gold
He the one they look up to, he know he can't fold
Every businessman he got geeked off snow
And he treat his f*ckin' chopper like his bro
He a Fox for real, they expect him to blow
And that young nigga with him don't aim below the throat
[YTB Fatt]
What happened?
Huh, what happened?
He ain't even know what happen, what happened?
He ain't even know what happened
All they did was pay that time, but he ain't even know what happened, hoo
(Ayy, what's happenin', C2?)
(You'll fly too if you link up with frenchie)
Hoo, uh (Yo, Ben)
What happened? Uh, hoo, uh
He indicted (Hoo)
And them bodies he caught, he glad he ain't lifin' (He thankful)
And that switch go everywhere he go, he licensed (Hoo)
His mama don't know, but he punch packs like Tyson
For the right amount of cheese in my city, they'll treat it like ISIS (Hoo)
F*ck every side in the city, it's up, no typin' (Hoo)
Leave that shit alone, faker, they don't wanna be like you (F*ck him)
This right here some grown man smoke
I don't tell you and you don't tell on me, that's how I like it (Hoo)
I piped you up, how you ain't gon' like me?
He slang that K like he licensed
He don't even play by the rules, got shot before, he gon' shoot 'fore he fight you
He don't even answer to the phone no more, for what?
'Cause half the men he had on the road with him caught indictments
You snatch your chain, he'll snatch you
He just get paid for it, he ain't a rapper
He got shit on his head, so he travel with smackers
He so f*ckin' loaded, he can buy two Phantoms
Seen whackers get whacked by whackers (What else?)
The jackers, jacked by jackals
He a real robber, he tried to rob another robber, but they f*cked 'round and smacked him
They had him, don't get caught lackin'
He ain't gon' perform without the backend
Know how to whack the switch, he don't do nothin' but tap it
Found out he was a rat, kick him out of the Fox den
Kill somethin', kept the phone with him, they tracked it
Can't nobody ever get seen with the lackin'
They hit his trap, he don't even wanna trap again
He don't work with killers, he know they'll clap 'em (Hoo)
He indicted (Hoo)
And them bodies he caught, he glad he ain't lifin' (He thankful)
And that switch go everywhere he go, he licensed (Hoo)
His mama don't know, but he punch packs like Tyson
For the right amount of cheese in my city, they'll treat it like ISIS (Hoo)
F*ck every side in the city, it's up, no typin' (Hoo)
Leave that shit alone, faker, they don't wanna be like you (F*ck him)
This right here some grown man smoke
I don't tell you and you don't tell on me, that's how I like it (Hoo)
[Lil Baby]
You know for a fact I'm not just a regular rapper, oh, yeah
We sellin' thousand, I'm not just a regular trapper, what else?
I run with the smackers, the hustlers, the players, the pimps, for real
She hold these pounds and these chains, I'm payin' her rent
Catch a body, beat a body, rap about it, he trim
She a baddie, I done had her ask about me, I'm him
Ain't droppin', still runnin' laps around me, for real
Same spot, still servin' packs around here, until—
Baby had turned me on, white toes too, got a fetish for 'em
Yeah, I'm with my Memphis bro, sell out the FedEx Forum
Why you on songs actin' like you lit? They know that you dead-ass wrong
Yeah, I be goin' Rolex, AP, Richard, I got a Patek on
Ayy, big bro comin' home, free Nate
[YTB Fatt]
He indicted (Hoo)
And them bodies he caught, he glad he ain't lifin' (He thankful)
And that switch go everywhere he go, he licensed (Hoo)
His mama don't know, but he punch packs like Tyson
For the right amount of cheese in my city, they'll treat it like ISIS (Hoo)
F*ck every side in the city, it's up, no typin' (Hoo)
Leave that shit alone, faker, they don't wanna be like you (F*ck him)
This right here some grown man smoke
I don't tell you and you don't tell on me, that's how I like it (Hoo)
[YTB Fatt]
The manager, I manage him in the backseat, everybody he love up the road
Anything come out his mouth, they know it's gold
He the one they look up to, he know he can't fold
Every businessman he got geeked off snow
And he treat his f*ckin' chopper like his bro
He a Fox for real, they expect him to blow
And that young nigga with him don't aim below the throat
[YTB Fatt]
What happened?
Huh, what happened?
He ain't even know what happen, what happened?
He ain't even know what happened
All they did was pay that time, but he ain't even know what happened, hoo
Writer: Cavon Paige, Dominique Jones
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Same (Remix)
[YTB Fatt]
(You'll fly too if you link up with Frenchie)
Uh
Huh, uh, uh (Who that, Trell?)
Uh
Uh
Huh, huh
I put these racks in a duffel
Huh, my trap doin' numbers
When I get there and hustle, we f*ckin'
Beatin' pussy from the back, go bonkers
Uh, outside, I want it in summer
When she first met me, had a hundred
On me
I ain't wanna show that side, didn't know if you want me or the money
Huh, really, this ho buddy-buddy
Huh, she f*ckin' on me and my buddy
Speak
She said that she like fat niggas, huh, all I could think 'bout my brother, G
Uh, huh, we f*ck with the same girl (What the f*ck?)
Uh, damn, we f*ckin' with the samе girl, uh (That shit heartless)
We f*ckin' with thе same girl, huh (Huh, shit, uh)
We f*ck with the same girl
[Rylo Rodriguez]
Yeah, for real, she just got that lipo, ho still can't compete with me
Knew you had a man, but I know that I had a chance, you wanna f*ck a street nigga
Fast-forward, we locked in for real, nigga f*cked your friend, you had us both
Shoot back to the city, you be tryna find ways to spin him, you with him all at my shows
We playin' tough, I get it though
Know you tryna let your feelings show
You tryna pull up to my video
His folks know your vehicle though
I be tryna tell you, you can't be movin' all loose, know niggas kill 'cause hoes
I ain't scared, I'm just tryna put you down, I run with them members though (Run with them members)
'Member one time I thought I lost you
'Member your arch was off, who taught you?
Niggas be trippin', they don't f*ckin' hustle
You be wantin' to post the shit I bought you
You bring up him, make you change the subject
Now you mad, I ain't no pillow-talker
Know the word on the street you f*cked him
You know the city we from be talkin'
Got caught up in relations with two different men, some things judge characters, I understand it
I just seen you postin' your gender reveal, I ain't tryna be the one to f*ck up your family
Got paid for a feature from a random fan, we got mutual partners, them the ones we came with
Girl done FaceTimed someone and then started playin' it, heard your voice and realized we f*ckin' with the same chick
Realized we f*ckin' with the same—
I ain't tryna be the one to f*ck up your family
Realized we f*ckin' with the same—
I ain't tryna be the one to f*ck up your family
(You'll fly too if you link up with Frenchie)
Uh
Huh, uh, uh (Who that, Trell?)
Uh
Uh
Huh, huh
I put these racks in a duffel
Huh, my trap doin' numbers
When I get there and hustle, we f*ckin'
Beatin' pussy from the back, go bonkers
Uh, outside, I want it in summer
When she first met me, had a hundred
On me
I ain't wanna show that side, didn't know if you want me or the money
Huh, really, this ho buddy-buddy
Huh, she f*ckin' on me and my buddy
Speak
She said that she like fat niggas, huh, all I could think 'bout my brother, G
Uh, huh, we f*ck with the same girl (What the f*ck?)
Uh, damn, we f*ckin' with the samе girl, uh (That shit heartless)
We f*ckin' with thе same girl, huh (Huh, shit, uh)
We f*ck with the same girl
[Rylo Rodriguez]
Yeah, for real, she just got that lipo, ho still can't compete with me
Knew you had a man, but I know that I had a chance, you wanna f*ck a street nigga
Fast-forward, we locked in for real, nigga f*cked your friend, you had us both
Shoot back to the city, you be tryna find ways to spin him, you with him all at my shows
We playin' tough, I get it though
Know you tryna let your feelings show
You tryna pull up to my video
His folks know your vehicle though
I be tryna tell you, you can't be movin' all loose, know niggas kill 'cause hoes
I ain't scared, I'm just tryna put you down, I run with them members though (Run with them members)
'Member one time I thought I lost you
'Member your arch was off, who taught you?
Niggas be trippin', they don't f*ckin' hustle
You be wantin' to post the shit I bought you
You bring up him, make you change the subject
Now you mad, I ain't no pillow-talker
Know the word on the street you f*cked him
You know the city we from be talkin'
Got caught up in relations with two different men, some things judge characters, I understand it
I just seen you postin' your gender reveal, I ain't tryna be the one to f*ck up your family
Got paid for a feature from a random fan, we got mutual partners, them the ones we came with
Girl done FaceTimed someone and then started playin' it, heard your voice and realized we f*ckin' with the same chick
Realized we f*ckin' with the same—
I ain't tryna be the one to f*ck up your family
Realized we f*ckin' with the same—
I ain't tryna be the one to f*ck up your family
Writer: Cavon Paige, Klutch Frenchie
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Let's Get It
(You'll fly too if you link up with Frenchie)
Huh, psh, woo
Uh, woo
Uh, psh, ah
Hear another fed on his ass, he use a beeper
He run by minutes
He don't even trust nobody, no lie, the young nigga only have a street sweepers, woo
The last pack came through was extra, he don't know the sender back a keeper, psh
Last nigga played with him sent a Tesla, drop top 'Vette how we leavin', woo
You a killer, he gon' greet you
You shoot me, I shoot you, off top, get even, psh
I make a hundred a week, psh, I remember totin' a BB, psh
Can't compare your story like mine, 'member they whacked my TT, psh
You ain't seen half the shit I saw, 'member comin' home watchin' TV, psh
He was a hundred deep, but on road half of 'em locked, uh, psh
Yeah, they don't even talk on the phone no more 'cause cops, uh, psh, uh
Last nigga play, y'all knock out his socks, psh
He got motion, for real, that young nigga forget half the shit that he bought, woo
You play with him, goin' to God
They'll smoke you, never talk cops with his opps, woo
He found the worst of the worst, psh, still pinchin' in them stolen cars
Never geeked up as killers, psh, imagine what that do on bars, psh
I never cared how they used to treat him, that nigga plate never gon' starve, woo
Pussy, that's from the heart
I mean it, psh
They never seen me in here, bitch, I went large, woo
He never pulled a fraud, psh, he rich, he don't hop in cars
What else? He rich, he don't get on feet, psh
How he do a pay for the job? Psh
Never forget where I came from, nigga, that's how you get robbed, pussy
Never said he ain't saw it
You ain't know it, my new name, Fatt Fox the God
Get up on it, uh, psh, uh
Get on it, woo, psh, uh
Get on it, uh
I'm from where, they back-doorin' they homies, psh
Where I'm from, you got opponents
Where I'm from, if it burn when you piss, you better book an appointment
Where I'm from, they pullin' up, dumpin'
Where I'm from, they'll bust your pumpkins
I'm from a land of gold diggin' bitches, you go to sleep, hide your money
Taz hit it straight off his side
Where I'm from, where you drop that cheese, they comin'
I really seen that shit, on my mama
Now it don't take nothin' much, give 'em fifteen hundred
Get up on it, uh, psh, uh
Get up on it, woo
If they drop that shit right now, they gon' get up on it, uh
Psh, get up on it, uh
If they get your location, he gon' get up on it, uh
Psh, huh, get up on it, uh
Uh, psh, get up on it, uh
Huh, psh, woo
Uh, woo
Uh, psh, ah
Hear another fed on his ass, he use a beeper
He run by minutes
He don't even trust nobody, no lie, the young nigga only have a street sweepers, woo
The last pack came through was extra, he don't know the sender back a keeper, psh
Last nigga played with him sent a Tesla, drop top 'Vette how we leavin', woo
You a killer, he gon' greet you
You shoot me, I shoot you, off top, get even, psh
I make a hundred a week, psh, I remember totin' a BB, psh
Can't compare your story like mine, 'member they whacked my TT, psh
You ain't seen half the shit I saw, 'member comin' home watchin' TV, psh
He was a hundred deep, but on road half of 'em locked, uh, psh
Yeah, they don't even talk on the phone no more 'cause cops, uh, psh, uh
Last nigga play, y'all knock out his socks, psh
He got motion, for real, that young nigga forget half the shit that he bought, woo
You play with him, goin' to God
They'll smoke you, never talk cops with his opps, woo
He found the worst of the worst, psh, still pinchin' in them stolen cars
Never geeked up as killers, psh, imagine what that do on bars, psh
I never cared how they used to treat him, that nigga plate never gon' starve, woo
Pussy, that's from the heart
I mean it, psh
They never seen me in here, bitch, I went large, woo
He never pulled a fraud, psh, he rich, he don't hop in cars
What else? He rich, he don't get on feet, psh
How he do a pay for the job? Psh
Never forget where I came from, nigga, that's how you get robbed, pussy
Never said he ain't saw it
You ain't know it, my new name, Fatt Fox the God
Get up on it, uh, psh, uh
Get on it, woo, psh, uh
Get on it, uh
I'm from where, they back-doorin' they homies, psh
Where I'm from, you got opponents
Where I'm from, if it burn when you piss, you better book an appointment
Where I'm from, they pullin' up, dumpin'
Where I'm from, they'll bust your pumpkins
I'm from a land of gold diggin' bitches, you go to sleep, hide your money
Taz hit it straight off his side
Where I'm from, where you drop that cheese, they comin'
I really seen that shit, on my mama
Now it don't take nothin' much, give 'em fifteen hundred
Get up on it, uh, psh, uh
Get up on it, woo
If they drop that shit right now, they gon' get up on it, uh
Psh, get up on it, uh
If they get your location, he gon' get up on it, uh
Psh, huh, get up on it, uh
Uh, psh, get up on it, uh
Writer: Cavon Paige, Matthew Taylor
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Karate
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Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Live It
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Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Find Peace
[ Featuring NoCap ]
Uh
Tss
Uh
Few niggas just got sweeped, the feds move like a broom
Fill my scars with codeine 'cause Tris can heal these wounds
Uh, hotboxin' these foreign cars, I never should've been a star
I control the game, I'm raw, no cappin' down, I'm the law
Uh, what you know 'bout cryin' alone, smilin' with your company?
Uh, I done searched the whole damn world and I was hopin' I can find peace
I been asked mama for that cheese, the money ain't have no time
Bro went out sad, shit, he gon' do what else now?
Tryna understand where she comin' from, I ain't get the timin'
He come out the gate with S on him, knowin' that what trial meant
He play with his life, chill, Roddy got public defenders (what else?)
Late nights, we should meet, back and forth
By sayin' that I know that I miss her (I'm here for it)
That's what I told Aisha
Don't talk on the phone what I tell my niggas
I respect the feet game, tell the pussies
Slow down is what I told to Tekeisha
South, I'm close, I'm back home
Knee-deep in the beef, I'm back on that
That's what I told my mama
If I let 'em catch me with my pants down, that's gon' make they summer
Uh, rich for real, I been peeled Hummer
Text God a prayer for the family, He text back, "I love you"
I ain't come this far for nothin'
Private jets from Miami to LA, it cost thirty-one
Few niggas just got sweeped, the feds move like a broom
Fill my scars with codeine 'cause Tris can heal these wounds
Uh, hotboxin' these foreign cars, I never should've been a star
I control the game, I'm raw, no cappin' down, I'm the law
Uh, what you know 'bout cryin' alone, smilin' with your company?
Uh, I done searched the whole damn world and I was hopin' I can find peace
Rick Owens planted in the ground, I keep my head high
You know none of these firearms ain't made for leg shots
Sellin' shows out in Oregon, I come from cellblocks
Uh, just to book me, it's gon' cost you dough, way more than a cookie
Fiends knockin' right there by the store, it's a bunch of bullies
In the field, them niggas thirsty, we jump the gate when they raid
It was times that I was hungry, now I valet-parked the i8
Few niggas just got sweeped, the feds move like a broom
Fill my scars with codeine 'cause Tris can heal these wounds
Uh, hotboxin' these foreign cars, I never should've been a star
I control the game, I'm raw, no cappin' down, I'm the law
Uh, what you know 'bout cryin' alone, smilin' with your company?
Uh, I done searched the whole damn world and I was hopin' I can find peace
Writer: Cavon Paige, Kobe Crawford
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Meant Nothin
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Pretty Brown
[ Featuring Lil Baby, Rylo Rodriguez ]
(Al Geno on the track)
Pretty brown, brown, drivin' me wild
It's four hours we been up, I won't give your secrets up
From the back, she keepin' up, I like when we sneak and f*ck
Come here, babe, come turn me up, she suck dick, she be peekin' up
Told me 'bout your past and how your last, he used to beat you up
You wrong too, you remember
You ain't tell him about your finsta
Whole city, they know your vehicle
You ain't tell him about that rental
You ain't tell him you got a second phone
I bet he ain't got that number
You be sendin' me naked videos, next time, takin' off the condom
When you fertile, I gotta be careful
Skin glowin', that lil' ho healthy
No pussy, you can't smell it
Every month, she go get tested
Oh, you Mrs. Can't-Be-F*cked-With?
I might stamp that, make them jealous
Why you actin' like a nigga don't trust you?
But I hate when you cooked spaghetti
I'm the first nigga brought you to Cali
What your lipo' cost? I'll Zelle it
But you need to thank all your doctors
That's the reason you ain't got no belly
Twenty-five, she ain't got no children
Her mama look like her sister
She went veneer on twenty-eight teeth
'Cause the dentist been pulled her wisdom
Thanks to me, that ass been bigger
Pretty brown, brown, drivin' me wild
Pretty brown, brown, drivin' me wild
That pussy dangerous, I'm thinkin' out loud (ah, tss)
And she gon' ride me like a rodeo
We act like strangers when you're with your crowd (tss)
I let her ride the Fox like a rodeo
She twenty-nine, but we've been f*ckin' since I was a juvenile
F*ckin' since I was in senior high, this bitch turned me to Cupid's child
And her last relationship why she get stupid high
Let her get high then pin her down
After we f*ckin', don't call her from time to time
And she know that's me callin' her phone, no caller ID
I know everything about her, she ain't answer, she grippin' the sheets
I got lil' Fox to watch her crib when I'm OT
I dare you cheat on me
Anything they hit, they know it's a fee (frrt)
I be seein' you sendin' your friends at me (tss)
I be seein' you sendin' your friends at me (huh)
I already know you sendin' your friends at me (tss)
I already know you sendin' your friends at me
I let her kick it with me for a week
I let her get own BNB
I ain't finna mix you in with my niggas
I let her pop shit on IG
I really saw somethin' in this bitch
I gave her thirty thousand for her teeth
We havin' sex wherever we go
I ate your pussy on Miami Beach
I like how you keep in touch, it works when I ain't seen you much
Been had got your number, but I'm still hittin' your social media
Flew you where I was, you booked your hotel through Expedia
Be sendin' me different memes you seen I'm X, but I don't tweet that much
Ain't social, she ain't got no friends
Go to school, at night, she dance (dance)
And the valet man say, "Wham" (Wham), I'm the reason she walk back in
I'm the reason she got that check, bag full of ones in the back of the Benz
Full electric, that's her work car, Maybach with the Forgi' rims
Oh, you natural, I like your body, blue fit and then record it (nah)
I ain't sizin' you up, don't get let 'em get you out comfort
You made too many bags, you gon' re-count when you get home
You say you gettin' your master's, so you won't be in the club for long
You livin' in the gym, already fine, just wanna tone
You called your babysitter and she ain't pickin' up the phone
So you call your best friend to come watch your child
Girl, you know you got that
Pretty brown, brown, drivin' me wild (ah, tss)
And she gon' ride me like a rodeo
Pretty brown, brown, it's drivin' me wild (tss)
I let her ride the Fox like a rodeo
That pussy dangerous, I'm thinkin' out loud (ah, tss, ah)
We act like strangers when you're with your crowd (ah)
I let her ride like a rodeo
Pretty brown, brown, drivin' me wild
Writer: Cavon Paige, Dominique Jones, Ryan Preston Adams
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Conspiracy
Ss, huh, what you're ridin' in? a Trackhawck jeep (You'll fly too if you link up with Frenchie)
Every nigga I f*ck with, they, ss
Every nigga I f*ck with, they use they feet
Comin' back in the game how I came (I'm on it)
We gon' start by stop by the trenches
We gon' start by cuttin' every nigga off that ain't handlin' they f*ckin' business
I remember them places them guns got buried
I remember that them bullets [?] my head
I remember the fully frrt, frrt, frrt by my dreads
I give a man their props
That ain't real, if he ain't shot, should've been shot
That shit he tried, that's all he got
I ain't gon' lie, I seen a real trapper mad the dope boy bounced back, he punched the pot
This shit done got serious, I told every nigga I love, "Don't call my phone" (They watchin' us)
This shit done got serious, no lie, all these federal phones (They tapped)
This shit got serious, I know some niggas locked by the phone (Conspiracy)
This shit got serious, I know some young niggas that'll really come chop off your arms
This shit got serious, [?] the feds behind them drones
This shit got serious, I know some niggas that's never comin' home
I'm finna upgrade all my jewelry, finna turn up my links
I had the hood Fox 'nem on security [?] the streets
'Cause they know I got more checks than pickup
Huh, they know I'm choppin' right with 'em
Huh, they know I got a career, If it come down to it, I'ma hit the Drac' with 'em
Huh, they know I'll never forget where I'm from, never think that I'm bigger than this shit
I know I ain't got no business at the store, so I hurry up and grab my kit
Huh, I ain't the type of nigga to take out my phone, record, and go live and shit
Huh, I know a couple niggas that done broadcast this shit, got hit in their shit (Smoked)
I know they catch me at this store right now, they gon' swarm this bitch
Uh, if I see car rentals to the parkin' lot, I left-right this switch
I'm goin' there like Tony, there's real niggas lookin' up to me, so I stand all ten by my lonely
Huh, huh, I can't disappoint 'em (Ss), rose gold emeralds, pointers
I know you heard of Fatt Fox, huh, he make homies kill homies
This shit done got serious, I told every nigga I love, "Don't call my phone" (They watchin' us)
This shit done got serious, no lie, all these federal phones (They tapped)
This shit got serious, I know some niggas locked by the phone (Conspiracy)
This shit got serious, I know some young niggas that'll really come chop off your arms
This shit got serious, [?] the feds behind them drones
This shit got serious, I know some niggas that's never comin' home
I'm finna upgrade all my jewelry, finna turn up my links
I had the hood Fox 'nem on security [?] the streets
Every nigga I f*ck with, they, ss
Every nigga I f*ck with, they use they feet
Comin' back in the game how I came (I'm on it)
We gon' start by stop by the trenches
We gon' start by cuttin' every nigga off that ain't handlin' they f*ckin' business
I remember them places them guns got buried
I remember that them bullets [?] my head
I remember the fully frrt, frrt, frrt by my dreads
I give a man their props
That ain't real, if he ain't shot, should've been shot
That shit he tried, that's all he got
I ain't gon' lie, I seen a real trapper mad the dope boy bounced back, he punched the pot
This shit done got serious, I told every nigga I love, "Don't call my phone" (They watchin' us)
This shit done got serious, no lie, all these federal phones (They tapped)
This shit got serious, I know some niggas locked by the phone (Conspiracy)
This shit got serious, I know some young niggas that'll really come chop off your arms
This shit got serious, [?] the feds behind them drones
This shit got serious, I know some niggas that's never comin' home
I'm finna upgrade all my jewelry, finna turn up my links
I had the hood Fox 'nem on security [?] the streets
'Cause they know I got more checks than pickup
Huh, they know I'm choppin' right with 'em
Huh, they know I got a career, If it come down to it, I'ma hit the Drac' with 'em
Huh, they know I'll never forget where I'm from, never think that I'm bigger than this shit
I know I ain't got no business at the store, so I hurry up and grab my kit
Huh, I ain't the type of nigga to take out my phone, record, and go live and shit
Huh, I know a couple niggas that done broadcast this shit, got hit in their shit (Smoked)
I know they catch me at this store right now, they gon' swarm this bitch
Uh, if I see car rentals to the parkin' lot, I left-right this switch
I'm goin' there like Tony, there's real niggas lookin' up to me, so I stand all ten by my lonely
Huh, huh, I can't disappoint 'em (Ss), rose gold emeralds, pointers
I know you heard of Fatt Fox, huh, he make homies kill homies
This shit done got serious, I told every nigga I love, "Don't call my phone" (They watchin' us)
This shit done got serious, no lie, all these federal phones (They tapped)
This shit got serious, I know some niggas locked by the phone (Conspiracy)
This shit got serious, I know some young niggas that'll really come chop off your arms
This shit got serious, [?] the feds behind them drones
This shit got serious, I know some niggas that's never comin' home
I'm finna upgrade all my jewelry, finna turn up my links
I had the hood Fox 'nem on security [?] the streets
Writer: Cavon Page, Durk Banks, Matthew Taylor, Nathaniel Bell
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Get Up On It
(You'll fly too if you link up with Frenchie)
Huh, psh, woo
Uh, woo
Uh, psh, ah
Hear another fed on his ass, he use a beeper
He run by minutes
He don't even trust nobody, no lie, the young nigga only have a street sweepers, woo
The last pack came through was extra, he don't know the sender back a keeper, psh
Last nigga played with him sent a Tesla, drop top 'Vette how we leavin', woo
You a killer, he gon' greet you
You shoot me, I shoot you, off top, get even, psh
I make a hundred a week, psh, I remember totin' a BB, psh
Can't compare your story like mine, 'member they whacked my TT, psh
You ain't seen half the shit I saw, 'member comin' home watchin' TV, psh
He was a hundred deep, but on road half of 'em locked, uh, psh
Yeah, they don't even talk on the phone no more 'cause cops, uh, psh, uh
Last nigga play, y'all knock out his socks, psh
He got motion, for real, that young nigga forget half the shit that he bought, woo
You play with him, goin' to God
They'll smoke you, never talk cops with his opps, woo
He found the worst of the worst, psh, still pinchin' in them stolen cars
Never geeked up as killers, psh, imagine what that do on bars, psh
I never cared how they used to treat him, that nigga plate never gon' starve, woo
Pussy, that's from the heart
I mean it, psh
They never seen me in here, bitch, I went large, woo
He never pulled a fraud, psh, he rich, he don't hop in cars
What else? He rich, he don't get on feet, psh
How he do a pay for the job? Psh
Never forget where I came from, nigga, that's how you get robbed, pussy
Never said he ain't saw it
You ain't know it, my new name, Fatt Fox the God
Get up on it, uh, psh, uh
Get on it, woo, psh, uh
Get on it, uh
I'm from where, they back-doorin' they homies, psh
Where I'm from, you got opponents
Where I'm from, if it burn when you piss, you better book an appointment
Where I'm from, they pullin' up, dumpin'
Where I'm from, they'll bust your pumpkins
I'm from a land of gold diggin' bitches, you go to sleep, hide your money
Taz hit it straight off his side
Where I'm from, where you drop that cheese, they comin'
I really seen that shit, on my mama
Now it don't take nothin' much, give 'em fifteen hundred
Get up on it, uh, psh, uh
Get up on it, woo
If they drop that shit right now, they gon' get up on it, uh
Psh, get up on it, uh
If they get your location, he gon' get up on it, uh
Psh, huh, get up on it, uh
Uh, psh, get up on it, uh
Huh, psh, woo
Uh, woo
Uh, psh, ah
Hear another fed on his ass, he use a beeper
He run by minutes
He don't even trust nobody, no lie, the young nigga only have a street sweepers, woo
The last pack came through was extra, he don't know the sender back a keeper, psh
Last nigga played with him sent a Tesla, drop top 'Vette how we leavin', woo
You a killer, he gon' greet you
You shoot me, I shoot you, off top, get even, psh
I make a hundred a week, psh, I remember totin' a BB, psh
Can't compare your story like mine, 'member they whacked my TT, psh
You ain't seen half the shit I saw, 'member comin' home watchin' TV, psh
He was a hundred deep, but on road half of 'em locked, uh, psh
Yeah, they don't even talk on the phone no more 'cause cops, uh, psh, uh
Last nigga play, y'all knock out his socks, psh
He got motion, for real, that young nigga forget half the shit that he bought, woo
You play with him, goin' to God
They'll smoke you, never talk cops with his opps, woo
He found the worst of the worst, psh, still pinchin' in them stolen cars
Never geeked up as killers, psh, imagine what that do on bars, psh
I never cared how they used to treat him, that nigga plate never gon' starve, woo
Pussy, that's from the heart
I mean it, psh
They never seen me in here, bitch, I went large, woo
He never pulled a fraud, psh, he rich, he don't hop in cars
What else? He rich, he don't get on feet, psh
How he do a pay for the job? Psh
Never forget where I came from, nigga, that's how you get robbed, pussy
Never said he ain't saw it
You ain't know it, my new name, Fatt Fox the God
Get up on it, uh, psh, uh
Get on it, woo, psh, uh
Get on it, uh
I'm from where, they back-doorin' they homies, psh
Where I'm from, you got opponents
Where I'm from, if it burn when you piss, you better book an appointment
Where I'm from, they pullin' up, dumpin'
Where I'm from, they'll bust your pumpkins
I'm from a land of gold diggin' bitches, you go to sleep, hide your money
Taz hit it straight off his side
Where I'm from, where you drop that cheese, they comin'
I really seen that shit, on my mama
Now it don't take nothin' much, give 'em fifteen hundred
Get up on it, uh, psh, uh
Get up on it, woo
If they drop that shit right now, they gon' get up on it, uh
Psh, get up on it, uh
If they get your location, he gon' get up on it, uh
Psh, huh, get up on it, uh
Uh, psh, get up on it, uh
Writer: Cavon Paige, Matthew Taylor
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Cook It
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Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Score
(Now, it's not magic, but it looks magical)
(DJ Bandz)
Uh
(Now, it's not magic, but it looks magical)
Take it back, take it back to the old
F*ck it, I'll take it back to the basics, huh
(DJ Bandz)
With them choppers up at my house, shit, choppers up at my house, shit
F*ck I lookin' like lettin' a nigga pass me, hit the gas on me
F*ck I lookin' like lettin' a nigga come show they ass on me, huh
F*ck I lookin' 'bout to drip off a nigga, that ain't even me, huh
F*ck I lookin' like goin' back and forth, I want him six feet
How you get your shit took and try to talk about me, nigga, at me
Only thing keepin' me calm is jumpin' out a nigga, choppers on P
You the type of nigga that'll pull off, put your whole gun on the seat
I'm the type of nigga, go to jail, that two forty and bond out at three, huh
Biggest Fox, pussy
I make that Fox call and that bitch yell like, "Woo"
I make that Fox call and bodies drop like, "Which?"
Cross me, I cut your throat in your sleep
Touch me, they kickin' your door 'bout me
Millions up, but I'm still servin' niggas QPs, I want it all, pussy
Keepin' you face clan, that's how I came in this game
Still got a bond with niggas who crack cocaine tied to their name
Yeah, let's go score
Huh, huh, huh, go score
Huh, huh, huh, huh, uh, nigga, go score
Huh, huh, pussy, huh, go score
Huh, uh, go score
Huh, nigga ain't gotta tell me nothin', send the location, we goin' straight to it
Whatever background we identify, nigga, we gon' pop, just music
Go score, huh, huh, come score
Huh, nigga, them FNs blue, go, come score
Uh, huh, huh, go score
Uh, uh, woo, go score
I'm in a jet flyin', got my ring-ring, motherf*cker, psh
And I ain't broke the rules yet in this street
'Cause they'll take it out on my mama, nigga, go score
Huh, huh, psh, go score
Uh, huh, whatever location, grab it, go score
Huh, rose gold, diamond baguettes, huh
Just bought two twin checks
I don't give a f*ck the place in my name
I'll send you Drac' out the back, nigga, go score
Huh, huh, go score
Uh, uh, pussy, what ever you doin', stop it, go score, uh
(DJ Bandz)
Uh
(Now, it's not magic, but it looks magical)
Take it back, take it back to the old
F*ck it, I'll take it back to the basics, huh
(DJ Bandz)
With them choppers up at my house, shit, choppers up at my house, shit
F*ck I lookin' like lettin' a nigga pass me, hit the gas on me
F*ck I lookin' like lettin' a nigga come show they ass on me, huh
F*ck I lookin' 'bout to drip off a nigga, that ain't even me, huh
F*ck I lookin' like goin' back and forth, I want him six feet
How you get your shit took and try to talk about me, nigga, at me
Only thing keepin' me calm is jumpin' out a nigga, choppers on P
You the type of nigga that'll pull off, put your whole gun on the seat
I'm the type of nigga, go to jail, that two forty and bond out at three, huh
Biggest Fox, pussy
I make that Fox call and that bitch yell like, "Woo"
I make that Fox call and bodies drop like, "Which?"
Cross me, I cut your throat in your sleep
Touch me, they kickin' your door 'bout me
Millions up, but I'm still servin' niggas QPs, I want it all, pussy
Keepin' you face clan, that's how I came in this game
Still got a bond with niggas who crack cocaine tied to their name
Yeah, let's go score
Huh, huh, huh, go score
Huh, huh, huh, huh, uh, nigga, go score
Huh, huh, pussy, huh, go score
Huh, uh, go score
Huh, nigga ain't gotta tell me nothin', send the location, we goin' straight to it
Whatever background we identify, nigga, we gon' pop, just music
Go score, huh, huh, come score
Huh, nigga, them FNs blue, go, come score
Uh, huh, huh, go score
Uh, uh, woo, go score
I'm in a jet flyin', got my ring-ring, motherf*cker, psh
And I ain't broke the rules yet in this street
'Cause they'll take it out on my mama, nigga, go score
Huh, huh, psh, go score
Uh, huh, whatever location, grab it, go score
Huh, rose gold, diamond baguettes, huh
Just bought two twin checks
I don't give a f*ck the place in my name
I'll send you Drac' out the back, nigga, go score
Huh, huh, go score
Uh, uh, pussy, what ever you doin', stop it, go score, uh
Writer: Cavon Paige
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
4 My People
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Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
OTW
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Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
On Zai Freestyle
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Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
"On Zai” is an album by YTB Fatt, a rapper also known for his contributions to the Korean hip-hop scene.
The album features a mix of introspective and energetic tracks, showcasing YTB Fatt's distinctive drawling style and lyrical depth. It includes collaborations with various artists and explores themes of personal growth, resilience, and the dynamics of urban life.
Performed By:
YTB FattThe album features a mix of introspective and energetic tracks, showcasing YTB Fatt's distinctive drawling style and lyrical depth. It includes collaborations with various artists and explores themes of personal growth, resilience, and the dynamics of urban life.
Genre(s): Rap, hip hop
Released: July 5th, 2024
Year: 2024