Who at the Door lyrics

[Intro: KrispyLife Kidd & YSR Gramz]
Yeah, n*gga
We on that one tip, b*tch
KrispyLife, YSR sh*t, dumbass n*gga (Yung Sak Runner)
Look
YSR sh*t

[Verse 1: KrispyLife Kidd]
Just came back from Bally with like nine of 'em
Drove them b*tches all the way, we ain't fly nothin'
Like your shoes got all the grip, you ain't slide nothin'
I'm really doin' the sh*t you rappin', I ain't tryin' nothin'
Make a b*tch get nasty, shake that ass on a handstand
I don't sweat until [?] or I see a raid van
Run down on a Blood, you must be a brave man
If it's just me, I got my Glock and this b*tch'll shave ten

[Verse 2: YSR Gramz]
I be packin', vacuum-sealin' 'bows at the Days Inn
I ain't doin' shows at your club unless the K's in
You ain't did sh*t for your dog, but you call him twin
I paid twelve hundred for this blick, this an F&N
My young n*gga'll walk down on you like he YBN
A hundred-fifty bands in this car, it's me and YN
My oldhead showed me a brick looked like a white Benz
I swear to God, I made a lot of money with my white friends
[Verse 3: KrispyLife Kidd]
High as f*ck in the club, the Ps got me flippin' out
A random n*gga dropped a five, I punched him in his f*ckin' mouth
Lil' bro campin' the car, so we hittin' it when they runnin' out
Like they tryna hug the earth, I made 'em hug the motherf*ckin' ground
Drrt, drrt, I put that switchy on him
I made him p*ss hisself like he had a weak-ass kidney on him
Like I got a n*gga daddy with me, I got a f*ckin' fifty on me
Leave this b*tch smokin' like I got a f*ckin' chimney on me

[Verse 4: YSR Gramz]
You better duck your taco, I'll put some loaf on it
All my friends is rich, all you hangin' 'round is broke homies
What's-his-name pack hittin' hard, we put dope on it
Dog tried to drop his first chain and went broke on it
Real Beecher n*gga, I'll throw fives in your f*ckin' face
Like I'm signed to Sada Baby, I'm a f*ckin' ape
We just dropped a six in the pop, I ain't f*ckin' ate
Bro f*cked your b*tch before you, you so f*ckin' late

[Chorus: KrispyLife Kidd & YSR Gramz]
These n*ggas pus*y, they do not be on anything
(Don't be on sh*t, they don't be on nothin')
Hit him with that whoop-whoop, left his ass sh*t stained
Hit him with that brrt-brrt, left his ass sh*t stained
Hit him with that brrt-brrt, left his ass sh*t stained
Who want smoke? Shoot your thing
[Verse 5: YSR Gramz]
My n*ggas puttin' belt to ass like they Pootie Tang
I know n*ggas sellin' white bricks like they Gucci Mane
How the f*ck you drop a diss song and ain't did a thing?
You ain't never had fifty bands, you so f*ckin' lame
Put an army on your ass like I'm Major Payne
n*ggas wearin' fake Cartiers, their sh*t ain't the same
I told bro don't walk down on dog, 'cause he's a no-name
My project n*ggas throwin' fours like they Rocaine

[Verse 6: KrispyLife Kidd]
I'm wearin' all black in the club, where you find me at?
I done snuck a MAC in the club way in Pontiac
Make sure that b*tch get broke, where Brazy Johnny at?
I'm droppin' change, dumpin' this hundred like it's a laundromat
Is it beef, or do you want a rap competition?
I'm Russell Westbrook for the Thunder, boy, don't ask how I'm livin'
I'm on the road with switchy, they done caught me down and I was trippin'
I don't kiss or tell or talk to n*ggas, I don't know no b*tches