Текст YBN Nahmir – The Race

Snitchin’ on Lil Nahmir, watch them bullets eat his face
If you loccin’, watch I’ll put you in your motherfuckin’ place and
Bitch, you know I tote this Glock, I don’t tote no .38s
On the block, bitch I keep them locked
Run up, you get dropped
Fuck the cops
Go to 5-1-0, we sliding on the opp
That’s on my momma, keep a 9 like Rondo
Clip whole 39
Turn his limb into some chicken, watch them bullets hit his fries
I’m the boss, I can’t take no loss but I’ll take your life
If you loafing in that prison then I’m sending that kite
Whatchu think I bought this gun for? I ain’t tryna fight
Try to diss me in a song, I bet my shooter get you right
If you talking, we pop up, we clapping, no need for that acting
Say my niggas in love with that action, tote pistols in traffic
Got it on me, run up and I’m sparkin’
Shoot shit like I’m Harden
Roll a blunt, we shooting at targets
Loud smell like we fartin it
Niggas thinkin’, but it’s still free Tay-K
I ain’t diss in him in no song, but yeah you niggas hella gay
Tryna start some shit up for some mother fucking fame
Niggas talking, I walk up and sent some shots up at they brain, nigga

Ayy, gang
Niggas already know what the fuck going on, nigga

Mr. Bounce Out with that mothafuckin’ .44, nigga
Nigga, try me, I’ma flip your shit, nigga
On gang, nigga
Brrra, bow, bow, bow