Beecher To Bompton lyrics

[Intro]
(I got so much Enrgy)

[Verse 1: YSR Gramz]
n*gga, I'm from Beecher (B's up)
All my n*ggas is some creatures (Yeah)
We gon' slide in the— we gon' slide in that eater
I want five for a feature (I want five)
You kissin' on that b*tch, I wouldn't keep her
n*ggas hoes, n*ggas ain't on sh*t and they broke (Yeah)
We got a chopper with a scope and I keep it in my coat
It get scary in the 810, n*ggas know
Everywhere I go, I keep my pole (Yeah)
Everywhere I go, I get a low
A n*gga play with Gramz, we gon' do a n*gga bold (Ayy, get that n*gga)
I don't trust a soul, 'cause everybody fold
I'd rather hit the block and gеt it gone, you hit the road
Slide on that n*gga, don't bе shootin' at no homes
7.62s broke his bones like I'm Jones (Get it?)
A n*gga hit my line talkin' 'bout he got the 'bows
I put my n*ggas on 'em, now them b*tches all gone
Doggy on that opp sh*t, my n*ggas, they gon' drop sh*t
f*ck the other side, we gon' slide with them mopsticks
Chopper with the wood and them b*tches look like chopsticks (Ayy)

[Verse 2: Fatboy Bizzle]
Ayo, Gramz, let me talk my sh*t
Ayy, n*gga, this Bompton, but my n*gga, he from Beecher (Ugh)
High school, was tryna f*ck on a teacher, I don't want her, I don't need her (Ugh)
In traffic, probably slidin' with an eater (Ugh)
She just love to give me face, I don't eat her, get my nut, then I leave her (Ugh)
b*tch pus*y soakin', she a creamer (Ugh)
Shells leave his head hot like a fever, where n*ggas fake 'cause of Skeeter (Ugh)
Man, these n*ggas b*tches, n*ggas wieners (Ugh)
VVS diamonds bustin' out the meter, I be fly like I'm Peter (Ugh)
n*gga, I be fly like I'm Peter Pan (Ugh)
f*ck around, whack an opp, then I do my dance (Ugh)
You used to be the man, now you pick up cans (Ugh)
b*tch, I used to want you, now I want your friend (Ugh)
Beat a n*gga ass up like I got eight hands (Uh)
I'm finna have a ninesome, my b*tch brought eight friends (Ugh)
I think I'm finna OD, I'm off eight Xans (Ugh)
A n*gga say he want a verse from me, I need eight bands
[Verse 3: YSR Gramz]
You the type to jump in n*ggas' beef, then take stands
Seen your opposition f*ckin' 'round and just shake hands
I learned how to jugg in the A down by bank head
If you ain't down low, YSR, you a fake fan
Beat a n*gga ass for tryna serve me some fake Xans
I was on the block gettin' money, ain't ate yet
I'ma bring Drich on the tour, he gon' take sh*t
He hit the road and came back home, he ain't make sh*t
We throwin' big B's in the parkin' lot
Got into a shootout the other day for a parking spot
Paid me five hundred for a feature, bought another Glock

[Outro: YSR Gramz]
YSR sh*t
Beecher to Bompton