Dubs Outweigh Losses lyrics

[Intro]
f*ck the fire, we got greese
It's a Wayne beat

[Verse 1: YSR Gramz]
This n*gga think he drinking real drank, but the Wok fake
You the n*gga getting n*ggas locked, 'cause the cops ain't
She asked me was this gun real? Na, the Glock fake
I heard these n*ggas out here backdooring, so I ride with Drac
I'm in the car with KrispyLife, so I ride with K
n*gga, I'm still out here grinding, that's why I rock with Ray
b*tch skinny but her pus*y big, Coi Leray
I'm out here dropping [?] off a n*gga, I'm in the stu at 8
I'm out here looking for a headhunter [?] my di*k [?]
We gon' shoot the f*ck out that n*gga, 'cause he 6/8
How you out here trapping? You don't know what a brick weigh
f*ck around and drop a 41, yeah, big face
My n*gga Kidd just hit a dirty b*tch, now his di*k stank
My lil n*gga a young thug, he think he Rich Gang
Don't give a f*ck, shoot my opp at a Pistins' game
Hit him with this Glock, we turned him up, gave his ass some fame
I know you got some money, but the hoes really think you lame
We finna set him up, this n*gga think he gang
I probably miss with this Glock, I won't miss with K
It's gon' take a hundred boes, you wanna get this way
[Verse 2: KrispyLife Kidd]
Dubs outweigh the losses
The back of my shoe say Off White, [?] walking
So many straps round this b*tch, you gotta move with caution
My n*ggas licenced up to shoot you, they don't do the charges
You want me to talk spicey, OK, then pay that
n*gga can't [?] sh*t, I'm where he lay at
My lap is where your b*tch face at
You could never f*ck with none of us, n*gga, yeah, them straight facts
The baby Glock make you [?] like it's a pint of tech
Got a freaky b*tch [?] tap
Really smoking zas on this [?] pack
I really don't wanna rap with you, bro, 'cause you kinda ass
I don't pass Gramz the wood, he eat all kind of ass
Why the f*ck is you doing that?
Technically, this a hundred [?] flip it [?]
You a lame n*gga with some cheese, you [?] rats
I'm around all solid n*ggas, I don't fool with rats
Talking greese on a greese beat, [?] got me too atached
You can't f*ck with me and my caidence
This some bullsh*t [?] police [?]
Feeling like Yella Beezy, all outa favors
Your trap ain't doing no trapping, you outa flavors
You [?] long time, you [?]
You [?] putting your parents in danger
[?] lot on these, just to f*ck 'em up out in traffic
Never going to my crib, make them suck me up out in trafic
Paid 2 K for this pistol, the f*ck I'ma do [?]
Dawg tryna eat healthy, he'd die for salid