Letra de Yuck
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To the bottom, where dreams are all lost,
Two ways, I hope that you could grab a gun or you can grab a cross.
Start to pitching my own, just to save for college,
Two ways, I hope that you could grab a gun or you can grab a cross.
Start to pitching my own, just to save for college,
And after got to college, I swear that I will stop it.
But when I do, I hit chicks like
Yeah, I am the man,
But these people on my side, they was all down with that plan.
Took a trip, look for gold, came back, more than enough,
Watch up fast all the shit sold, call it trap, ‘cause I’m just stuck.
From the whip around my city fat boys tryin’ to get me,
They don’t understand my holding, how many people wanna ride with me.
They’re showing too much love and I ain’t talking about hugs
It’s like all they needed was lighting, had them put ‘em on to that plug, hit it.
Brand new kicks, they’re from ’92,
I hope this soul don’t crumble on these Nikey shoes,
Innovating ways just to get some change,
Finger through the Forbes, it won’t be the same.
Track on, rap on, trying to make a mil’ , get my stack on,
Try to keep it real, get my fags on,
Another Clinton here, that’s for you,
Get my pants up like grims up, make my grinds up,
Remember what we did to make the grind up,
Another team see, rubber bands up.
Rubber band, wax, plastic rap in abundance,
Automatic cash, come back whenever I flooded.
And then go up to a hundred, want it all, ‘cause still money,
Fundamentals when I call, my technique was still dunkened,
G said you are real shit, so I spit roll like a fill shit.
More fresh, I kill shit, was it for me, got a real in it.
Work hard, ball harder, Free Flying III is to fall order.
Trap this tapes, they ray over, going forward, I started.
Jump lanes in a jet plane, I’m too fly.
Space chance in my feet, you stop, they moonshine.
In this bitch for the long run, have it back when I’m all done,
Close so hard, you cut that beat like two times.
But when I do, I hit chicks like
Yeah, I am the man,
But these people on my side, they was all down with that plan.
Took a trip, look for gold, came back, more than enough,
Watch up fast all the shit sold, call it trap, ‘cause I’m just stuck.
From the whip around my city fat boys tryin’ to get me,
They don’t understand my holding, how many people wanna ride with me.
They’re showing too much love and I ain’t talking about hugs
It’s like all they needed was lighting, had them put ‘em on to that plug, hit it.
Brand new kicks, they’re from ’92,
I hope this soul don’t crumble on these Nikey shoes,
Innovating ways just to get some change,
Finger through the Forbes, it won’t be the same.
Track on, rap on, trying to make a mil’ , get my stack on,
Try to keep it real, get my fags on,
Another Clinton here, that’s for you,
Get my pants up like grims up, make my grinds up,
Remember what we did to make the grind up,
Another team see, rubber bands up.
Rubber band, wax, plastic rap in abundance,
Automatic cash, come back whenever I flooded.
And then go up to a hundred, want it all, ‘cause still money,
Fundamentals when I call, my technique was still dunkened,
G said you are real shit, so I spit roll like a fill shit.
More fresh, I kill shit, was it for me, got a real in it.
Work hard, ball harder, Free Flying III is to fall order.
Trap this tapes, they ray over, going forward, I started.
Jump lanes in a jet plane, I’m too fly.
Space chance in my feet, you stop, they moonshine.
In this bitch for the long run, have it back when I’m all done,
Close so hard, you cut that beat like two times.
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