Talk YO Shit

Lyrics

[Intro: FBG Young] Ayy I don't need you in here Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy [Chorus: FBG Young] Mama say, "Don't go around that way," them niggas Iffy I can get ya Sitchy with this Glizzy if you fishy Told my Plug, "Ditch it," like Magician, it go missing My shooters go rambunctious with them killings and get busy, hey Put a fuckin' hit on your shoulder, it's a load up Drop some Ben G's on ya, have ya Homie get up on ya I sold so many P's that dead opps my aroma Make your daughter trap for Mi 'cause she want that Fendi on her [Verse 1: FBG Young] I'ma bang my Side 'til the death of me 'Til I rest-in-peace, 4-and-'nem rep the rest of me Watch them niggas 'round the corner, down the block, and up the street Better keep a blick or ya ass get sent to Leak's I got gas, but I'm on "E" Fuck-a-fee, turn this bitch to 'out West' I got D, what ya need? Hey, hey Bad bitch, she bougie, brought the ratchet out her That bitch sucked me back to sleep, it's somethin' nasty 'bout her I be -styling, I ain't got no stylist Twenty pounds, another Knowledge Hit me on "It," it be wildin' Anything get behind it And my bitch don't get a Bag, she got all-mad Told that bitch I want a Bagg, but it's all-Cash, ayy [Chorus: FBG Young] Mama say, "Don't go around that way," them niggas Iffy I can get ya Sitchy with this Glizzy if you fishy Told my Plug, "Ditch it," like Magician, it go missing My shooters go rambunctious with them killings and get busy, hey Put a fuckin' hit on your shoulder, it's a load up Drop some Ben G's on ya, have ya Homie get up on ya I sold so many P's that dead opps my aroma Make your daughter trap for Mi 'cause she want that Fendi on her [Verse 2: FBG Wooski] I pull up drippin' on their ass Pockets Crippin' on their ass No, I'm not listenin' to their ass I don't give no fuck who with his ass Squeeze that bitch 'til it start clicking on his ass Guns rippin', bullets flippin' on his ass Yeah, the State wanted me to be a felon Fuck the opps 'cause them niggas tellin' Jumpin' out his Body, broski pop his melon Nigga, that's that LA pack what you smellin' I been with the older niggas since I was 11 12, 13—dope, I was sellin' Got bumped for a .357 Said, "Fuck school," so I started failing (Gang) [Chorus: FBG Young] Mama say, "Don't go around that way," them niggas Iffy I can get ya Sitchy with this Glizzy if you fishy Told my Plug, "Ditch it," like Magician, it go missing My shooters go rambunctious with them killings and get busy, hey Put a fuckin' hit on your shoulder, it's a load up Drop some Ben G's on ya, have ya Homie get up on ya I sold so many P's that dead opps my aroma Make your daughter trap for Mi 'cause she want that Fendi on her