Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song What I Be On , by - JayDaYoungan. Song from the album 23, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 14.07.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Ruffwayy
Song language: English
What I Be On |
| Watch his tone, he speak wrong and he might be gone |
| What’s in my hands, long as fitness, ain’t a microphone |
| Might step and point it at your top, he tryna strike your dome |
| That dump shit, fuck diss songs, that’s what I be on |
| Steppin' with my brother, fuck it if he right or wrong |
| I’m still that same nigga, by myself when I’m alone |
| If we can’t get you, we come peek-a-boo inside your home |
| But let me get back to the basics, bitch my pockets strong |
| It’s cancer in the air, we bringin' out them rods |
| Spin in broad daylight or we comin' after dark |
| I’m tryna bust a nigga’s shit and send him to the lord |
| Pull up with fifty in the clip, this bitch gon' make some noise |
| Bitch I’ma let you know, I can’t go back and forth |
| Let’s go to war, catch your car, knock your shit in park |
| Got twin cutters, brand new Glocks for you and all your boys |
| It’s your decision, you could lose your brain or lose your heart |
| You doin' all that shit for clout but you won’t make it far |
| I keep it smart, gon' finish all that pussy shit they start |
| Dive in that water and that’s danger, you can’t swim with sharks |
| Dive in that water and that’s danger, you can’t swim with sharks |
| Watch his tone, he speak wrong and he might be gone |
| What’s in my hands, long as fitness, ain’t a microphone |
| Might step and point it at your top, he tryna strike your dome |
| That dump shit, fuck diss songs, that’s what I be on |
| Steppin' with my brother, fuck it if he right or wrong |
| I’m still that same nigga, by myself when I’m alone |
| If we can’t get you, we come peek-a-boo inside your home |
| But let me get back to the basics, bitch my pockets strong |
| Automatic, hop out and go chase it, we make sure you face 'em |
| Bitch I need my meds 'fore I go crazy, menace I was labeled |
| I’m a nineties baby, I’m on top 'cause the drum on eighty |
| Pop his top and watch his body lock up like I fuckin' tased it |
| And I’m faded, Hi-Tech in my cup, it got me feelin' lazy |
| Run up playin', I’ma split your shit, this AR aim go brazy |
| Twenty-three the greatest, fuck these pussy niggas who be hatin' |
| You can be the latest to get your shit bust all on the pavement |
| Can’t touch a nigga, money long, I got a lot of cash |
| Fuck a nigga, cross the line and gotta drop a bag |
| We clutchin' pistols, pussy bitch, don’t make my choppers spazz |
| Hop in a rental, out the window, that’s a bodybag |
| Watch his tone, he speak wrong and he might be gone |
| What’s in my hands, long as fitness, ain’t a microphone |
| Might step and point it at your top, he tryna strike your dome |
| That dumb shit, fuck diss songs, that’s what I be on |
| Steppin' with my brother, fuck it if he right or wrong |
| I’m still that same nigga, by myself when I’m alone |
| If we can’t get you, we come peek-a-boo inside your home |
| But let me get back to the basics, bitch my pockets strong |