Free Yatta lyrics

[Verse 1: Mozzy]
Gang related sh*t on your stupid ass
Check the scoreboard n*gga, do the math
The homie put me on I was doing bad
I told him when I whip it I'ma flip it and shoot it back
You don't know what to do with that I'm tooting and moving packs
Death before dishonor on my mama I'm true to that
We don't f*ck wit suckas, n*ggas know we ain't bool wit that
It's how automatic goes and when you see him just do him that

[Chorus: Yatta]
We still holdin this sh*t
Leave some holes in your whip
You n*ggas ain't eatin there's a hole in your lip
Let the feds find this load they prolly pose wit this sh*t
My pops money I'm lil money
Got a nose for this sh*t
[X2]

[Verse 2: Yatta]
n*ggas ain't kill sh*t
n*gga pipe down
Claiming sh*t you ain't did, got him knocked down
Police search the school house, had to drop out
If you was in my shoes you probly cop out
Hop out, bodies drop every time we pop out
Loud mouth, talking sh*t that you was really not bout
Where was dude, the homies knocking on the door locked out
The homie told on the homie came in the bullpen got socked out
b*tch pay me, b*tch pay me bring the guap out
Lane ain't changing, wit an asian getting top down
Chain swangin, we misplace em and not found
It ain't gravy, it's the navy bring them chops out
[Verse 3: Mozzy]
Ridin wit that sewer rat
You gon' get your noodles whacked
Slithered through that motherf*cker once and double U-y back
Selling dope over here, f*ck around and lose your sack
I zee you n*ggas strapped up, f*ck you finna do with that
Guala on the wood ten to four, never shoot a crap
And I'd give up everything I own to bring my shooter back
Me no pus*y boy, you'll die for assuming that
Gang war finna press play we resuming that
All them n*ggas bootsy, you a goofy for saluting that
You know the n*gga told, you seen the paperwork and proof in that
Roll the windows up we got it cloudy we polluted that
Lotta lotta dope smoke and I'm sipping glue with that
A little measly ten thousand in a Gucci bag
She just wanna f*ck me then pay me for a Louie bag
She just wanna f*ck me then pay me for a Louie bag
Probably trynna line me up, f*ck is all my shooters at

[Chorus: Yatta]
We still holdin this sh*t
Leave some holes in your whip
You n*ggas ain't eatin there's a hole in your lip
Let the feds find this load they prolly pose wit this sh*t
My pops money I'm lil money
Got a nose for this sh*t
[X2]