FYB! lyrics

[Intro]
Tuned up

[Chorus]
f*ck you, b*tch, and I mean it
No friends, company my demons
Big bands, I'ma blow, dont keep it
f*ck you, that love you showed ain't mean it
Fighting my problems, will I get defeated?
I'ma try to flex up and beat it
Shot, shot, shot, shot
I make a call and them n*ggas don't play 'round
We beat lil' n*ggas up on the playground
That was back then, but we beating a K now
Shot, shot, shot, shot, shot
If he try to run, it’s a chase down
Hit his back and we leaving his face down
We just broke, but we all gettin' paid

[Verse 1]
Grra, grra, grra, grra
Boy, you gotta be jokin’, you don’t got no motion
Grra, grra, grra, grra
I got sh*t in my head that don’t ever get spoken
Nah, nah, nah, nah
Bae, would you give me CPR if I start overdosin'? Nah, nah
f*ck it, I don’t want to be likе that right now
Oh, goddamn
Blow a track, Christian Dior my feet right now, I don’t even like thеm
Grr, grr, grr, grr, grr I say, "Goddamn"
He kept talking tough, he met the sky, guess that was God's plan
[Chorus]
f*ck you, b*tch, and I mean it
No friends, company my demons
Big bands, I'ma blow, dont keep it
f*ck you, that love you showed ain't mean it
Fighting my problems, will I get defeated?
I'ma try to flex up and beat it
Shot, shot, shot, shot
I make a call and them n*ggas don't play 'round
We beat lil' n*ggas up on the playground
That was back then, but we beating a K now
Shot, shot, shot, shot, shot
If he try to run, it’s a chase down
Hit his back and we leaving his face down
We just broke, but we all gettin' paid

[Verse 2]
Back on my turnt sh*t, they know I’m runnin' the city
All of the OG’s gettin' wit' me
We gon’ rep ace town, f*ck a win year
When he touch down, sh*t be getting gritty
I don’t really give time to no bitties
If she can’t take di*k, f*ck her titties
I know a lot of labels tryna get me, I need a billion, f*ck a Millie
His back in, come tap in, we got bowls on the floor and the mattress
He keep on posting, he got it in traffic
We gon' fill up that whip if he gas it
Know you a shooter, but that ain’t for nobody
'Fore you go do that drill, better mask it
n*ggas ain’t shooters, they really be air ballin'
And every time that we shot, hit the basket
[Chorus]
f*ck you, b*tch, and I mean it
No friends, company my demons
Big bands, I'ma blow, dont keep it
f*ck you, that love you showed ain't mean it
Fighting my problems, will I get defeated?
I'ma try to flex up and beat it
Shot, shot, shot, shot
I make a call and them n*ggas don't play 'round
We beat lil' n*ggas up on the playground
I was back then, but we beating a K now
Shot, shot, shot, shot, shot
If he try to run, it’s a chase down
Hit his back and we leaving his face down
We just broke, but we all gettin' paid