Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Sound


Interface


Difficulty level


Accent



interface language

en

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie policy   |   Support   |   FAQ
1
register / login
Lyrkit

donate

5$

Lyrkit

donate

10$

Lyrkit

donate

20$

Lyrkit

And/Or support me in social. networks:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
G Herbo

Friends & Foes

 

Friends & Foes

(album: PTSD (Deluxe) - 2020)


(Zaytoven)

Where would I be without rap? Nobody really knows
Me and Gregg was sharing clothes, but we wasn't really bros
We was tryna impress them hoes, kept us on our toes
I had 25 in high school, like I'm Derrick Rose
I had a Glock when I met Pistol P, that's on my soul
Hat always cocked back to the left 'cause I grew up with the moes
And I was thugging hard with shawty like I'm one of the 4s
I had some shootouts with my bronem, I had to give it and go
Shit got hot, we start swapping most of 'em, still got one of the old ones though
Might hang that bitch in a frame for show
That's the one that my big bro used to throw
We ain't learn how to blow in no range, no
Pop out, flame out the Wrangler door
Might could've blew out my brains, though
Niggas must ain't got no aim no more
Niggas left me in the rain some more
I found some gold in the rainbow, though
They say I got money and changed the most
Please don't forget I'm still dangerous, though
Still'll walk up on a stranger, though
Gangster shit run in my veins for sure
I wanna change 'em, though
Know how to channel my anger, though
Oh, we ain't gone save 'em, no
Where his hood at? We gon' name him, though
Oh, yeah, I'm famous, so?
None of my killers want payment, though
Oh, we ain't 'posed to be banging, no
Me and my niggas, we hanging, though
Oh, I don't wanna be slanging dope
This pistol don't ever stop ranging, though

Ayy, I don't panic
Whips be panoramic
I was selling dope at my granny's
Xanny's, yeah, I need a Grammy, oh
Need another big ass mansion, uh
Big yard, big ass hammock, uh
Wrist all wet, Atlantic
Bitch, it's big bucks, no whammies
My bitch need attention, she bad as fuck
And she got lips like Angela
You know a young nigga done ran it up
Damn, I could buy her a phantom, huh?
Where that come from? That was random, huh?
Die for respect, I demand it
I was dead broke, now I'm rich, can't stand it
Tell me why niggas hate Randy

G Herbo, fuck niggas can't stand me, huh
Worth a couple mil, I'm branded, uh
Special nigga 'cause I'm left handed, huh
Niggas naming shit, I had it
I ran through that sack like I must've forgot it
I helped niggas out when I should've bought a Patek
They sneak diss a lot, but they don't want no static
You savages should be no rumor, you ratted
I bought my first pipe, cuzzo said I could have it
At G Fazo house, me and [?] in the attic
Kay Fazo was here, used to sit and imagine
Then pull on they block just to shoot what we averaging
Ladders and horses and carriages, you know we clapping shit
Opps, we embarrass 'em, ayy
We ain't gon' hop out no caravan, ayy
Foenem might fire up yo' cameraman, ayy
Real street niggas I represent
Long live Bapo and Hellabandz
Ain't nothing but trappers and bappers in here
Who the fuck let all these rappers in?
We ain't with none of that chitchat, uh-uh
You ain't never hear no click-clack
Shawty 'n' 'em ready to kidnap something
Send his arm home in a gift wrap for 'em
Push a nigga shit back some
Homie 'n' 'em might want some get-back for 'em
We finna slide tonight, heard his homie 'n' 'em tryna have a kickback for 'em
Broski the driver, got my window rolled down in the rear back some
Just having fun, that's the type of shit I did, I was young
I shed a tear for my young, nigga, I kill for my son
And before I met him, I was numb
Let a nigga feel my drum
A lot of niggas think I'm dumb
I'ma just let 'em think what they want
They probably think I'm a punk
Niggas probably really think I ain't gon' dump
I'm the type to let 'em front
Leave a nigga ass all in Nieman slumped, uh
After I feed a nigga hollow tips, I need a blunt
Sick and tired of smoking all this Gelato, shit, I need some Runtz
Finna get another 150 charm real quick, I need a font
40 thousand go out every first of the month
Just for living, always been that nigga, so you never could front
Just be consistent
Pulled up on some flexing shit, like, "Yeah, bitch, we did it"
Add up these digits
Naw, not that, that's just a lil' million
Uh, uh

done

Did you add all the unfamiliar words from this song?