Round One lyrics

[Intro]
(Oh my God, Kishi)

[Verse 1: YSR Gramz]
f*ck it, I'ma go first, let E come after me
These n*ggas love the internet, but never @ me
b*tch, we from Flint, we don't say lame, we say chatty
If we can't catch you, n*gga, we gon' drop your daddy
You never outside, lil' n*gga, drop your addy
I can tell you broke as hell, you still shoppin' at the Valley
My young n*ggas f*cked up, they be slidin' in Denali
I ain't have to shoot my opp, he shot hisself, he be rabid

[Verse 2: GrindHard E]
Weed, lean, and fashion, I got three expensive habits
Inside the crib, I spеnt three thousand on my mattress
Anything you come and get from mе, best believe I'm taxin'
Two-seventy-five for a line of drank and thirty for an Addy
My fiend sold me some drank for the low, I paid it gladly
In they face I act like it ain't worth sh*t, but walked off happily
f*cked the b*tch and I ain't never answer again, I know she mad at me
I know a n*gga bought a repoed Scat Pack and that b*tch raggedy

[Verse 3: YSR Gramz]
Sold my n*gga some bullsh*t weed, now he mad at me
I just caught three opps lackin', that's a tragedy
I just got some head from a b*tch that got acne
They cut that n*gga drank, why he think he got Acty?
I got a fiend out in Fenton named Jackie
When my son go to school, put twenty in his khakis
They ain't know it, but I had the thirty-round in my jacket
n*gga shorted me on a couple grams, so I smacked him
[Verse 4: GrindHard E]
I know a fiend was buyin' Scooby-Doo that look like Daphne
Had a waitress that was tradin' pills for food at Applebee's
Let my n*gga smoke a blunt of 'za, he ain't wanna pass the weed
Let a n*gga play with me or mine and it's a casualty
Cheap weed ain't good and weed that's good ain't cheap
It's a difference between that mid weed you smokin' and this Cali weed
Everything I got, come order and see, if you don't like it, bring it back to me
You probably paid five thousand or more if you got it from me

[Verse 5: YSR Gramz]
A rapper got dropped, now he Rapper Weed
f*ck it, I want five for a feature, I can't rap for free
If you ain't YSR, lil' n*gga, you can't trap with me
He got shot in his chest tryna scrap with me
I know a n*gga down south tryna rap like me
I know a plug up north that got packs for cheap
A n*gga sold my n*gga some fake Percs and got smacked to sleep
A n*gga tried to diss me in his song, I got him jacked for free

[Verse 5: GrindHard E]
Knock a n*gga out, wake him up and put him back to sleep
Put a bounty on his head, told everybody, "Keep him alive and bring him back to me"
If your raps ain't real rap then you can't rap with me
I heard y'all got fake 'za in a real bag and re-packed the weed
I grind hard and do everything I do for all the people used to laugh at me
Laughed when I was up at all the people turned they back on me
.223 lift him off his feet thanks to gravity
Went and shopped with my FMB n*gga, so right now I'm smokin' cavities