Grammer School versuri

Grammer School lyrics by YSR Gramz

Intro
(Enrgy made this one)
What the fuck? Is that YSR Gramz right there?
Yeah, yeah, that’s him
Man, I promise you, man, that nigga ain’t on shit, man
He ain’t been on shit since grammer school, man
He ain’t no real young sack runner
He don’t run bitch for shit, bro

Chorus
It get scary ‘round here, you better tuck your chain
Niggas backdoorin’ niggas, it’s a dirty game
A nigga got caught and told the feds like thirty names
Youngin sixteen years old, but he bust brains
If you really love me, bitch, put this gun in your name
You was a real-ass nigga ‘til the money came
In the wide-body Scat Pack, we in different lanes
I love whеn she call me Big Gucci, that’s my other namе

Verse 1
I buy Rockell everything, that’s my mother name
Bro just rolled up some shit that smell like onion rings
I know I hit the clerk when I heard a ding
You wasn’t born in the hood, you never heard of fiends?
I know it’s fire-ass weed when it made me sneeze
I just poured a four in my pop, it just made me dream
One shot from the Five-SeveN, it’s gon’ make him bleed
Put a switch on the back of it, it’s gon’ make him leave
He just rolled some bullshit up, it look just like leaves
Brodie got forty bands on him, but he cannot read
Zaza got me chokin’ on it, man, I cannot breathe
Fire comin’ out the Draco, man, I cannot see
You ain’t God, nigga, you can’t tell me what I cannot be
I know some niggas sellin’ dog food in Tennessee
Old head keep a knife on him, he a Wolverine
You the type of nigga tell a nigga what you gon’ do to him

Chorus
It get scary ‘round here, you better tuck your chain
Niggas backdoorin’ niggas, it’s a dirty game
A nigga got caught and told the feds like thirty names
Youngin sixteen years old, but he bust brains
If you really love me, bitch, put this gun in your name
You was a real-ass nigga ‘til the money came
In the wide-body Scat Pack, we in different lanes
I love when she call me Big Gucci, that’s my other name

Verse 2
LSP, Loski Brim, that’s my brother name
Before I made money off of rap, I went and got a chain
Fucked around and hit FanDuel and got another chain
I ain’t fuckin’ with the weed, I got another lane
Fell in love with this bitch, she got some different brain
This a big .308, bitch, it shoot missiles, mane
Long live that nigga Skino, I swear I miss you, mane
And them ‘bows came early, think Christmas, mane
I’m a Beecher nigga, YSR is just a different game
Four-fives, ARs and Dracs, we got different things
You love pussy, I love money, we got different takes
I was gon’ hit her, but her pussy smell like fish tanks
I be tryna make a hundred bands off a mixtape
She a bougie bitch, she don’t even think her shit stank
She say she on her rag, I can’t fuck, but her lip stank
What type of nigga say you can ride with him, but the sticks can’t?

Outro
Like what you mean?
Like I can ride with you, but I can’t bring my stick?
Fool, is you fuckin’ stupid?