Yung Simmie - Str8 Savage lyrics

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Yung Simmie - Str8 Savage lyrics

[Verse 1: Yung Simmie] These n***as lightweight fightin a champion I pull up with the simmie n***as askin what happen Yeah I spit dope like a n***a be trappin Flow wet can you pa** me a napkin? Imma vet with yo b**h I be makin it happen You a internet thug talkin bout you be clappin I'm a real like Mac told yo b**h cuz she asked me Flow just nasty All in yo face like acne Coolin wit my dogs like shaggy My b**h hold a strap no tranny I'm concrete you candy Hot fire flame might make your b**h fan me Shots at your family Glock to your granny I run up in yo yard like the dog don't scare me He get two shots too You step dad and your pops too Now your stuck and its not glue I can draw one Glock cuz I got two I spit thunderbolts I'm Riachu I put the guns away And Mike Tys' you I give em straight bars I indite you No fed tho Hollow tips straight to a n***a head tho I cut his ease off Make him beg tho I tell my girlfriend Grab his legs hoe I cut his head off I'm the head honcho [Verse 2: Denzel Curry] What the f** is up with these n***as conscious I do a n***a like how Drizzy did Common Common sense I am not the one to plot against cuz you know Curry is ultimate commin down comin round hearin a hundred rounds I'm from a place where they run it down Even tho its the future it feels like the past and the present is pa**in my blunt around Will it ever change like a parking meter When I park n***as spark the heat up Man down or Nelson Mandela put behind the bars We the best seller in the underground I'm the best seller n***as think I sold out Only way that to happen is if they took my soul out All swag re [?] In that's no doubt Take em out missin like they whoopie goldberg's eyebrows Didn't like to hear me now they fear me This for all the n***as who dont know bout the truth Why you think the magazines cover people like you You ain't talkin bout sh** yet they do what you do Corruptin to youth Invasion of the wack sh** to lame This is a taste test of my black dick f**in up environment Lives in the entire run Face the wrath of my mothaf**in Gallic gun b**hes ain't sh** and n***as ain't either I am not kidding I'll send em to a reaper That's a jk that's a damn shame how the game played late Raised in the un-tamed county of Dade