Lyrics Turk – You Mad Yet (Remix)
Text:
Shout out to my nigga Chris mp3 west baby
Yea welcome to Brooklyn
I turn up nigga I turn up yea a nigga took all
No more back burner still I shoot a nigga head
It don’t concern us guranteed young and thuggin
No nigga I’m in my own lane ain’t no nigga get it
Like I get it you mad though tell me why you mad
Bitch I’ve been home two years I keep them happy
Don’t fuck around with that doe now no more one on
Ones I can code now the realest nigga in the game
At the streets it’s about time they all going to say the
Same keep it coming to yourself fuck ghetto pain I’m
A big dog nigga don’t play with your chair pussy nigga
You going to need a insurance I got some niggas that
Will kill for me that’s the shine
Yea all black all like me tone throwing gang signs get
You reef thrown my niggas from the hood call me see
About it eating season salad up in season palace I got
Bad bitches coming with me and blowing cheques rolio
Around My wrist I could bought a vet you is a batty boy
Nigga you is a fuck boy my drug dealer pass got me
Paranoid black bandon and free Harry Louver If it ain’t
The Audi mar then I’m a wear the Mula finessing is an
Auto war you better have a ruler remix the nigga like a
Diddy song the work touch down I’m a get and go that
Pistol got them talking fast busy bomb I’m still eating
From my last shit middle finger is you mad yet
I was mash up the black flur burn so I bought another one
Broke up with my girl last night and fucked another one
Keep my feet on these pussy nigga like alright is son
Homie you ain’t mad yet you see me doing are we there
Yet cop sucking niggas still watching you ain’t feds yet
Money over bull shit family over everything KOB show
Them to the club wearing heavy bling making niggas
Mad make these niggas want to kill me hustle real
Hard these young gang bang feelin me it’s certified the
More you hate me the more you get it get them mad get
Them angry and that’s the way that we live
Glad that my nigga Turk back home disloyal nigga stab you
In the backbone real niggas real niggas they only can relate
I’m in the kitchen I’ll be whipping macharoni till it’s baked that
Nigga phony his whole existence is only a mistake time bomb
Ticking like a rolly when It’s fake this is only for the great for
All my homies in parole it’s great weather it’s better ruler for
The state I go but lonely my soldier was possessed by the
Trappers drug dealer dressed like a rapper nigga I got it
Fresh about a rapper got it fresh about a batter I got sex by
The plotter whoa some clopping till their guns rotten I might
Pop it off in public where everyone watching I got to get a
Dollar myself holding nigga on Instagram trying to follow
Myself you heard
