4 Years Ago

Lyrics

[Intro: YSR Gramz] (Enrgy made this one) Okay [Verse 1: YSR Gramz] My lil' nigga broke as hell, he really tryna rob somebody Why the fuck you even got a gun? You never shot nobody My nigga ran through 100K, he ain't got no wallet Seen an opp the other day, he said we ain't got no problems I knew he wasn't on shit Took my cheese to Gary and I came back with a froze neck I don't really fuck with doggy bone, he a whole bitch Gave my bitch two hundred dollars, go get your toes did All that sneak dissing in your raps gon' get your ho hit Fucked this bitch for forty-five minutes, she want more dick Told the bitch I know the Coochiе Man, she got more wet Hold on, you see that nigga with that AK? A nigga touch this chain on my nеck, he gon' die today Told my nigga Tee pull up, let's get high today I stuffed fourteen grams in it, bitch, I'm out in space Came through in that R/T, bitch, get out my way Bitch steady asking for a hundred, bitch, get out my face She said she got some good-ass pussy, let me see how it taste A lotta these niggas really out here riding niggas' waves Where I'm from, the sixteen-year-olds ridin' around with K's They so ready to drop them a nigga, they 4K Trey Four years ago, getting on niggas with a thirty-eight Dropped so many lines in a two-liter, that's a dirty eight She known for sucking everybody dick, she got a dirty face [Verse 2: RMC Mike] No cap, they play a nigga music 'bout in thirty states Woke up and drink Wockesha, this an early eight (Hold on) Bitch said I got— hold on, what girly say? I think I fell in love with the coochie at an early age I had to straighten my bitch out, she had curly braids I think your bitch a ho, she got scary ways Michigan run the rap game, yeah, we better made I been getting money with my nigga from the second grade Quavis move the bag quick as hell, he can't stop for shit I'm a dawg with dog shit on me, that's a pile of shit Girly fucked me cause I drop a chain, that's a compliment I tried to beat her down from the back, but the condom ripped [Verse 3: KrispyLife Kidd] Sick, I just shot a nigga from a mile away My cameraman moved, so I gotta hit the A Mike only want the zazas, the London and the Cake No, fuck that, he want the Cake, pound of the London Somebody was bumping an opp music, he almost got shot for nothing Seen an opp in the club, he almost got popped for clubbing Me and you are not the same, you do not be on nothing My pint was short, so I had to fight my uncle Head was so good on old girl, I should've recorded this shit Stab a nigga up, put holes in him, gave him a jersey kit Why you do that, man? 'Cause you deserve this shit Forty-two shots out this bitch you and J. Flaherty twins