Problem Lyrics - Slime Season 3 - Young Thug

Okay okay, so, YSL 

We're YSL aka private fly gang you know 

Yeah, we're the private fly gang you know... join in bitch 

Bitches in love with these slimers, how many now? 

Lil nigga money long as a Greyhound 

Smokin' that shit out the pound 

We never lost it, it ain't nothin' to be found 

These bitches come and go round and go round 

I took the booty, nut just like a Mound 

These bitches gon' cover me, I call them gowns 

Boy that's your problem 

I might fuck up a boy that's your problem 

Gettin' distorted lil boy, that's your problem 

No need for abortions, I'll nut on your momma 

Send him up to God with no problem 

Got icin' on icin' on boogers on boogers lil bitch that's my problem 

Boy check out that Rollie it shine like a motherfuckin' problem 

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In a Bentley burnin' loud and I'm gassin' 

I got hundreds sittin' on hundreds, that blue cheese, I'm not ranchin' 

I done took off my boo now I'm (?) dancin' 

And I feel like Marilyn Manson and I want a fucking Grammy 

Pass me that mud, please just pass me that mud 

Sticky white birds, call 'em doves 

Implants up under my girls 

Please no-no fallin' in love 

I'm runnin' round with a bitch, mine bout thick as a cup 

Meanwhile they hatin', I done spent me some dubs 

And I'ma lie to that ho like a rug 

Gettin' money of course 

Cookin' white like the Porsches 

Shout out to Nelly Air Forces 

Hop in that guinea ran right on your porch 

Hop out like motherfuck the doors 

Yeah, I'ma go ahead and free Offset, yeah he a Migo 

(Free Offset nigga) 

Photos 

Bitches in love with these slimers, how many now? 

Lil nigga money long as a Greyhound 

Smokin' that shit out the pound 

We never lost it, it ain't nothin' to be found 

These bitches come and go round and go round 

I took the booty, nut just like a Mound 

These bitches gon' cover me, I call them gowns 

Boy that's your problem 

I might fuck up a boy that's your problem 

Gettin' distorted lil boy, that's your problem 

No need for abortions, I'll nut on your momma 

Send him up to God with no problem 

Got icin' on icin' on boogers on boogers lil bitch that's my problem 

Boy check out that Rollie it shine like a motherfuckin' problem 

Damn, we gon' try you in these streets 

We gon' G her with no sheets 

How long ago? Bout a week 

All my attires are neat 

All of her friends are unique 

I wanna fuck at least three 

Can I? (Yeah, sheesh) 

He playin'? I pop him like pop tarts 

I'ma demon, only see when dark 

I look like I got a Visa card 

Private fly gang, yeah agree with us 

Dinosaur B's and some C's with us 

I like that cat bald like an eagle bruh 

Since I ran up my racks ain't no tamin' us 

Damn it's Friday, I need angel dust 

I fuck that bitch if she starin' 

Pull up and hop out Mclarens 

Don't say I won't cause that's darin' 

I'll shoot him with a bow and arrow 

Yeah, my bitch is a motherfuckin' horse with no saddle 

Yeah, shoot that bitch one time with a double barrel 

Bitches in love with these slimers, how many now? 

Lil nigga money long as a Greyhound 

Smokin' that shit out the pound 

We never lost it, it ain't nothin' to be found 

These bitches come and go round and go round 

I took the booty, nut just like a Mound 

These bitches gon' cover me, I call them gowns 

Boy that's your problem 

I might fuck up a boy that's your problem 

Gettin' distorted lil boy, that's your problem 

No need for abortions, I'll nut on your momma 

Send him up to God with no problem 

Got icin' on icin' on boogers on boogers lil bitch that's my problem 

Boy check out that Rollie it shine like a motherfuckin' problem 

Yaaaaa, yeah 

Yaaaaa, yeah