King James Lyrics – YSR Gramz
Singer: YSR Gramz
Title: King James
n#gg#, f#ck, oh sh#t, sh#t, f#ck
Big Wop, b#tch, I’m back on that b#llsh#t (Big Wop)
My opp went to jail, they beat his #ss in the bullpen (Jumped on that n#gg#)
I don’t wanna smoke this Backwood ’cause it’s too thin (I won’t)
You the type of n#gg# cuff a b#tch and try to move in
My lil’ brother pulled up on the block with like two FNs (Like two FNs)
The b#tch ain’t let me f#ck, now I’m finna f#ck two of her friends
I told that b#tch come and suck my dick while I count up bands (While I count it up)
Just ’cause we from the same hood don’t mean you my mans
He tried to run from the switch, he ain’t have a chance
I remember wasn’t nobody f#ckin’ with me when I ain’t have no bands (They wasn’t f#ckin’ with me)
Feds got behind the Scat Pack, we got up out the jam (We got up outta there)
I’m mad as hell, ain’t got my gun, I’m finna punch his head
In the stu’ rollin’ Backwoods, I’m finna punch in (f#ck)
Got a n#gg# baby mama bent over doin’ that one dance (Doin’ that one dance)
I be servin’ everybody, I’m a lunch man (I’m a lunch man)
You get sent to the store, you the blunt man (What the f#ck?)
You know I’m rockin’ with LeBron, f#ck Jumpman (f#ck Jordan)
Bro said he wanna throw up the B’s and got jumped in (Beat that boy)
I’m finna call Block Logic, he got dumps in
I got twenty-dollar eighths all month, I got Runtz in (I got Runtz in)
I got so much cheese on me, I work for Cottage Inn (I work for Cottage Inn)
How you takin’ pictures with him? That n#gg# shot your mans (How the f#ck?)
You gon’ find out the hard way n#gg#s not your friends (n#gg#s not your people)
Gramz, enough of all that sh#t, let me sh#t talk (Okay)
Brodie sellin’ everything, can make a brick walk (Can make a brick walk)
Shotty did knock your #ss out, he a brick wall (He a brick)
These lil’ n#gg#s poodles ’round this b#tch, I’m a big dog (I’m a big dude)
We OT, bro just f#cked a b#tch off a list crawl
This .308 in this small gun knock limbs off
b#tch, I’m always in the hood, Zach Randolph
Your mans do all the shootin’, bro, you really soft (You really a ho)
Buy it for the low, sell it high, I be gettin’ off (I be gettin’ off)
You ain’t put nobody on around this b#tch, you is not a boss
Brodie done sipped so much damn lean, he turned into the Hulk (Ooh)
I ain’t tryna hear them n#gg#s’ music, n#gg#, turn it off (Turn that sh#t off)
I whipped my dick out on this one b#tch and she ate it all (Ooh)
I ain’t into f#ckin’ MMA, but I’ll break your jaw (I’ll break your sh#t)
b#tch came over and got f#cked and went straight to the bar
Don’t leave your Scat runnin’ at my hood store, they’ll take your car (They gon’ take off)
Without that f#ckin’ gun, you is not that hard (You a b#tch)
My b#tch started kissin’ on my neck, my dick got on hard (Ooh)
I’ll pick the Draco over the AR
Bro just ran up twenty bands off a fake card (Off a fake card)
Brodie ain’t playin’ basketball, he finna take my charge (Finna take my charge)
Everybody with me got guns, we don’t need no bars (We don’t need ’em)
Man, f#ck, I just ran out of weed, I gotta go to JARS (f#ck)
I gotta go to this b#llsh#t-ass restaurant
That sell weed
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Lyrics YSR Gramz – King James
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