4 Years Ago

[Intro: YSR Gramz]
(Enrgy made this one)
Okay

[Verse 1: YSR Gramz]
My lil' nigga broke as hell, he really tryna rob somebody
Why the fuck you even got a gun? You never shot nobody
My nigga ran through 100K, he ain't got no wallet
Seen an opp the other day, he said we ain't got no problems
I knew he wasn't on shit
Took my cheese to Gary and I came back with a froze neck
I don't really fuck with doggy bone, he a whole bitch
Gave my bitch two hundred dollars, go get your toes did
All that sneak dissing in your raps gon' get your ho hit
Fucked this bitch for forty-five minutes, she want more dick
Told the bitch I know the Coochiе Man, she got more wet
Hold on, you see that nigga with that AK?
A nigga touch this chain on my nеck, he gon' die today
Told my nigga Tee pull up, let's get high today
I stuffed fourteen grams in it, bitch, I'm out in space
Came through in that R/T, bitch, get out my way
Bitch steady asking for a hundred, bitch, get out my face
She said she got some good-ass pussy, let me see how it taste
A lotta these niggas really out here riding niggas' waves
Where I'm from, the sixteen-year-olds ridin' around with K's
They so ready to drop them a nigga, they 4K Trey
Four years ago, getting on niggas with a thirty-eight
Dropped so many lines in a two-liter, that's a dirty eight
She known for sucking everybody dick, she got a dirty face

[Verse 2: RMC Mike]
No cap, they play a nigga music 'bout in thirty states
Woke up and drink Wockesha, this an early eight (Hold on)
Bitch said I got— hold on, what girly say?
I think I fell in love with the coochie at an early age
I had to straighten my bitch out, she had curly braids
I think your bitch a ho, she got scary ways
Michigan run the rap game, yeah, we better made
I been getting money with my nigga from the second grade
Quavis move the bag quick as hell, he can't stop for shit
I'm a dawg with dog shit on me, that's a pile of shit
Girly fucked me cause I drop a chain, that's a compliment
I tried to beat her down from the back, but the condom ripped

[Verse 3: KrispyLife Kidd]
Sick, I just shot a nigga from a mile away
My cameraman moved, so I gotta hit the A
Mike only want the zazas, the London and the Cake
No, fuck that, he want the Cake, pound of the London
Somebody was bumping an opp music, he almost got shot for nothing
Seen an opp in the club, he almost got popped for clubbing
Me and you are not the same, you do not be on nothing
My pint was short, so I had to fight my uncle
Head was so good on old girl, I should've recorded this shit
Stab a nigga up, put holes in him, gave him a jersey kit
Why you do that, man? 'Cause you deserve this shit
Forty-two shots out this bitch you and J. Flaherty twins