Strap Yo Nuts On

Album cover art for "Strap Yo Nuts On" by YSR Gramz & Six Ward Von

YSR Gramz & Six Ward Von - Rap, USA

Strap Yo Nuts On

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Lyrics

[Intro] (Enrgy made this one) [Verse 1: YSR Gramz] I make trapper music I don't give a fuck what these rappers doin' We could've got a bag, but you fuckin' blew it I ain't gotta let off shots 'cause my nigga shootin' Get a half P for thirteen like I hoop for Houston You should pay attention, take notes like a fuckin' student He should've sold dope, but he didn't, turned to a user This Glock'll make your fuckin' heart drop like a state trooper [Verse 2: Six Ward Von] Drink a four straight out the bottle, fuck a two cups Pour some Möet on a model, we done moved up You ain't even got a dollar and you boo'd up Still in the hood shootin' dice, fiends shootin' up I got niggas doin' life, and you shootin'— I got niggas doin' life, and you shootin' in the motherfuckin' air, tryna scare somebody Only thing you proved, you was tryna spare somebody [Verse 3: YSR Gramz] Fuck a bitch and leave the bitch alone, I don't care about her One shot from the Glock'll knock the air up out him You're tryna flex in front of hoes, you like everybody We'll slide down your shit like we air hockey I was tryna get a bag, you was doin' robberies The difference between us, you won't shoot nobody I won't do the dishes, fiends do the laundry You ain't tryna get no money, get the fuck from 'round me [Verse 4: Six Ward Von] Kick a bitch to the curb like I'm Jet Li A nigga ask to hold somethin', I'm like, "Catch these" My young dog'll blow somethin' and he can't read 'Round this bitch like Ray Charles, I just can't see niggas Everybody tellin', I just can't believe niggas Lil' hoes get sent on, they just can't be seen with us I got a third eye, I think I can read niggas The only way is up, niggas tryna get a million [Verse 5: YSR Gramz] I'm tryna get a million, give it to Aaliyah I miss my nigga Gabe, why he had to leave us? She out here havin' kids, she can't even keep 'em Niggas lyin' in they raps, I can't even believe it Mark rollin' three-fives, askin' where the weed went Nobody trustworthy, I can't even fuckin' vent These niggas keep a gun, they can't even keep a cent My nigga fucked up, he ain't even got no sense [Verse 6: Six Ward Von] Ayy, I got a lot of hoes, bitches thinkin' I'm a pimp I'm walkin' with the pole, why a nigga got a limp You tryna hit the road, still can't even pay the rent Man, kill the pussy first time, hit it with attempt Say he in a bind, I can't lend a nigga shit Don't 'posed to be out of town, really outside of Michigan Shh, don't make a sound, finna put it to your man Some shootin' in the crowd, you ain't lookin' like a fan [Verse 7: YSR Gramz] Can't rap on everybody, for a verse, I need a band She switched up on me, I ain't see it in her plans If I ain't got my Glock, fuckboy, you gettin' slammed All I do is sell weed, but it's lookin' like I scam You out here fucked up, a year ago, you was the man My shoes Off-White, but my shirt is from Japan You ain't get it out the mud, bitch, you got it out the sand Better strap your nuts on, get some money, quit playin'

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Credits

Writers
  • YSR Gramz
  • Six Ward Von