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Young M.a

Genres: Hip-Hop

Bleed Lyrics - Young M.a

Yeah, yeah, what happened, ayy 

 

Four years later they still sleepin' on me 

And I ain't gotta get the strap 'cause I still keep it on me 

It's crazy how I got a big dick without a dick, uh 

It's Young M.A. don't ever let that name come out yo' lips 

I'm the big goon, 

I send my goonies to your crib and 

you can die inside your livin' room 

If gettin' money mean you dumb then fuck it I been a fool 

And I ain't just go and get the food I built the kitchen too 

I'd rather be inside some pussy than do this interview 

Little gay nigga hoes been on me since middle school 

Break up with a bitch by next week I won't remember you 

Just because I'm put it in don't mean I'm into you 

Into foreign countries with a foreing chick, foreing whip 

Foreign food, foreign shoes, just a bunch of foreing shit 

Niggas wildin' out and [?] you recordin' this 

Put two hundred thousand on my balance just for talkin' shit 

Fuck it up on tour and shit, red handle done, importin' shit 

It's funny how haters throwin' shots but they ain't callin' it 

Uh, clear the way make some room please excuse 

That's a real nigga walkin' in 

 

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Huh it's M.A bitch 

You got somethin' on your mind then say that shit (say that shit) 

We kingpins this is not a play pound 

In other words we don't play that shit 

M.A 'bout to drop, better play that shit 

Hoes love me man, them niggas hate that shit 

They be like ooouuu, I hate that bitch 

Ooouuu but ain't they are broke, and ain't I rich 

 

Ouuu, ouuu shake 'em off 

Niggas wasn't on their job, had to lay 'em off 

Her nigga wasn't on her job, had to break her off 

Three words for these hoes, take it off 

Ouuu, drop panties, no hands please, she don't need plan Bs 

She pop' xannies, like it's candy, that's why she antsy 

But she nasty, and I'm a thorough bread nigga with an attitude 

It's Young M.A, make sure that M.A is capital 

Being broke is a joke that's why I'm never in a laughin' mood 

Always got the trap clickin' like they some talbot shoes 

Get rich or die, I had to chose 

Get rich or die tryin', Curtis Jackson move 

Bipolar, can't control her, keep it true with me 

Strike across my shoulder cause my mind is like a bag of screws 

 

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Huh it's M.A bitch 

You got somethin' on your mind then say that shit (say that shit) 

We kingpins this is not a play pound 

In other words we don't play that shit 

M.A 'bout to drop, better play that shit 

Hoes love me man, them niggas hate that shit 

They be like ooouuu, I hate that bitch 

Ooouuu but ain't they are broke, and ain't I rich 

 

Flex, ooouuu heard the least 

In this motherfuckin' booth leave it third degrees 

Cookin' crack up in that stew I gotta serve the fiends 

Hop in that Maybach tell the driver umm, [?] 

Rich and filthy still rock silky red rose certainly 

Black and blue, that gray one too, just copped that burgundy 

I swear I try to chase my ways but it ain't work for me 

Fuck a bitch 'cause currently my mood is currency 

And I'm, sippin' Hennessy, make sure it's perfect please 

I'm countin' up, she said 'How much?' I said infinity 

If I'm gon' come for you they do not sent for me 

'Cause I will pop this brand new Glock and take her virginity (grr) 

Uh, big pimpin' spendin' Gs 

What I look like trickin' on a bitch, that ain't the shit for me 

Keep being my vicinity without abilities 

All you haters suck my nuts and suck my dignity 

Sheesh 

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