VIOLENCE lyrics
By: YG Featured on: JUST RE’D UP 3
[Chorus]
If you slidin’, niggas dyin’, with that violence, I ain’t lyin’
Don’t believe me, come and try, nigga
Caught him slippin’, perfect timin’, when he dissed me, he was top
What’s up with all that writin’, nigga?
With the shootin’ and the fightin’, got em fryin’
Best friends with a dyke ’cause we don’t like you niggas
The money callin’, I’m excited, flyin’ private with the gang
Nigga, chains, I’m doin’ life with niggas
[Verse 1]
Niggas dyin’ if we slidin’, hit your block with what’s behind me
Click, clack, bang, the glizzy flyin’
Glizzy with a stick on it, the glizzy poppin’
Caught him slippin’, we weren’t tryna hide it, sick, stick to hidin’
Your gang can’t hang with me, I should divide it
Gangster on the internet, but he a whole bitch in private
Wake up, get fucked, then I get deposits
He’s a broke boy ’cause he don’t get the process
Four-hundred milli’, that’s a must, nigga
No, I don’t trust niggas, so I got a trust, nigga (Ayy)
Plus the crib plush, nigga
Seven-hundred horsepower, left ’em in the dust, nigga (Ayy)
See an opp and get a rush, nigga
Somethin’ wrong with me, really, what the fuck is up, nigga?
Beefin’ with a rapper, but he suck, nigga
I’m like the goose, when you see me, better duck, nigga
[Chorus]
If you slidin’, niggas dyin’, with that violence, I ain’t lyin’
Don’t believe me, come and try, nigga
Caught him slippin’, perfect timin’, when he dissed me, he was top
What’s up with all that writin’, nigga?
With the shootin’ and the fightin’, got em fryin’
Best friends with a dyke ’cause we don’t like you niggas
The money callin’, I’m excited, flyin’ private with the gang
Nigga, chains, I’m doin’ life with niggas
[Verse 2]
I’m in the streets where niggas be
A hundred-thousand, it’s on me, I move around like I’m OG
You bitches, you ain’t shit to me
And you niggas, you ain’t shit to me, you’ll never be a nick to me
All my mans dyin’ and it’s a victory
Ballin’ now with my nigga, send a check, we split the fee
Niggas tryna re-write history
Claimin’ he’s a nigga in my city, he’s a mystery
Fuck it, hit the light to the trunk
Quick fast, got to pump, do ’em sad, sad as fuck
The opps trash, bag ’em up
His bitch bad, bad as fuck, slaughter gang, stab her up
I’m on some whole other drip now
The AP Plain Jane, but I bust your bitch down
Ridin’ with the bros and we got blicks out
Real street nigga, over me, they gon’ spin out
[Chorus]
If you slidin’, niggas dyin’, with that violence, I ain’t lyin’
Don’t believe me, come and try, nigga
Caught him slippin’, perfect timin’, when he dissed me, he was top
What’s up with all that writin’, nigga?
With the shootin’ and the fightin’, got em fryin’
Best friends with a dyke ’cause we don’t like you niggas
The money callin’, I’m excited, flyin’ private with the gang
Nigga, chains, I’m doin’ life with niggas