Lyrics NBA YoungBoy – Snitch
Text:
Ooh, you a fool for this one
Yeah, this for them thug niggas, you heard me? (Oh)
We all got them trials and tribulations (slatt)
We all got a lotta niggas hatin’
You hear me? (Slatt, slatt, slatt, slatt)
Bitch I really be rappin’, all my niggas really be trappin’
You hear me? But tell me what’s the difference though
This for Lil Ben (Ben)
Shootout anywhere, you know that we with it
I done did it again (again)
This for them niggas that post in them trenches (yeah)
They callin’ again (YoungBoy the money good, he right here, I’ma zip him)
I’m fallin’ again (that’s my nigga, if he down, I’ma lift him)
Roll up a ‘gar, start up the car, let’s get off in some shit
Montana say he think somebody snitchin’ in the clique
This shit ain’t playin’, ain’t no tellin’ how worser can it get (can it get)
Let it play out ’cause if it’s true then I’ma split his shit (bow)
I cut his water short, I put that on my soul (on my soul)
We get it in how we live, they don’t know (they don’t know)
Death at the corner, devil on me, my heart cold (my heart cold)
Heard these niggas want it, grab the gutter, time to roll (skrrt)
Creep through the house, we let out shots the first minute we see ’em (bow, bow, bow)
MAC with a suppressor, once I bust it, they’ll never hear ’em (pew, pew)
Bitch we really steppin’, he want pressure, I wouldn’t wanna be him
‘Til that nigga die open fire every time I see him
Ran off with weed, I told Black Bo that we gon’ get ’em though
Every day I’m runnin’ with some hittas straight up out that four
Really big B livin’, sellin’ drugs right up off the porch
Play ’round with my money, squeeze his neck until he fuckin’ choke
Got these tats in my face and I scream NBA
What the fuck do you mean it’s tatted on me
I’ma post in the Nawf with a TEC up on me
I’ma walk through the mall with a check up on me
Got a gun where my waist at, you know I don’t play that
I want a nigga for to take it from me
I heard these pussy niggas hatin’ on me
I guess that he pray to the devil (yeah)
They know that we stay ’bout whatever (yeah)
If he play then you know we gon’ stretch him (yeah)
I’m runnin’ with some cold steppers (steppers)
They don’t got no mind, they reckless (they reckless)
Say he gon’ rob me, you know I won’t let him (yeah)
Stay with that Glock and you know I’m a felon (pum, pow, pum, pum)
This for Lil Ben (yeah)
Shootout anywhere, you know that we with it
I done did it again (yeah)
This for them niggas that post in them trenches (post in the trenches)
They callin’ again (YoungBoy the money good, he right here, I’ma zip him)
I’m fallin’ again (that’s my nigga, if he down, I’ma lift him)
Roll up a ‘gar, start up the car, let’s get off in some shit
Montana say he think somebody snitchin’ in the clique
This shit ain’t playin’, ain’t no tellin’ how worser can it get (ooh)
Let it play out ’cause if it’s true then I’ma split his shit (grra)
