You Mad Yet Remix lyrics

[Intro]
Shout out to my n*gga Chris mp3 west baby
Yea welcome to Brooklyn

[Verse 1]
I turn up n*gga I turn up yea a n*gga took all
No more back burner still I shoot a n*gga head
Like a tree burner if it ain’t about the cash then
It don’t concern us guranteed young and thuggin
No n*gga I’m in my own lane ain’t no n*gga get it
Like I get it you mad though tell me why you mad
b*tch I’ve been home two years I keep them happy

[Verse 2]
Don’t f*ck around with that doe now no more one on
Ones I can code now the realest n*gga in the game
At the streets it’s about time they all going to say the
Same keep it coming to yourself f*ck ghetto pain I’m
A big dog n*gga don’t play with your chair pus*y n*gga
You going to need a insurance I got some n*ggas that
Will kill for me that's the shine

[Verse 3]
Yea all black all like me tone throwing gang signs get
You reef thrown my n*ggas from the hood call me see
About it eating season salad up in season palace I got
Bad b*tches coming with me and blowing cheques rolio
Around My wrist I could bought a vet you is a batty boy
n*gga you is a f*ck boy my drug dealer pass got me
Paranoid black bandon and free Harry Louver If it ain’t
The Audi mar then I’m a wear the Mula finessing is an
Auto war you better have a ruler remix the n*gga like a
Diddy song the work touch down I’m a get and go that
Pistol got them talking fast busy bomb I’m still eating
From my last sh*t middle finger is you mad yet
[Verse 4]
I was mash up the black flur burn so I bought another one
Broke up with my girl last night and f*cked another one
Open up the longer tall case brought the longer one
Keep my feet on these pus*y n*gga like alright is son
Homie you ain’t mad yet you see me doing are we there
Yet cop sucking n*ggas still watching you ain’t feds yet
Money over bull sh*t family over everything KOB show
Them to the club wearing heavy bling making n*ggas
Mad make these n*ggas want to kill me hustle real
Hard these young gang bang feelin me it’s certified the
More you hate me the more you get it get them mad get
Them angry and that’s the way that we live

[Verse 5]
Glad that my n*gga Turk back home disloyal n*gga stab you
In the backbone real n*ggas real n*ggas they only can relate
I’m in the kitchen I’ll be whipping macharoni till it’s baked that
n*gga phony his whole existence is only a mistake time bomb
Ticking like a rolly when It’s fake this is only for the great for
All my homies in parole it’s great weather it’s better ruler for
The state I go but lonely my soldier was possessed by the
Trappers drug dealer dressed like a rapper n*gga I got it
Fresh about a rapper got it fresh about a batter I got sex by
The plotter whoa some clopping till their guns rotten I might
Pop it off in public where everyone watching I got to get a
Dollar myself holding n*gga on Instagram trying to follow
Myself you heard