WYA lyrics

[Intro: YBN Nahmir]
Ayy
Ayy

[Chorus: YBN Nahmir]
I'm in the trap, too much bands on a young n*gga
Don't even know how to act
Get them racks, can't go work for another man
Most of these n*ggas be cap
Yeah, that's all facts, most of these n*ggas be fake
And most these n*ggas be rats
Still shippin' them packs, know they go for the low
They comin' in, where you at?
I'm in the trap, too much bands on a young n*gga
Don't even know how to act
Get them racks, can't go work for another man
Most of these n*ggas be cap
Yeah, that's all facts, most of these n*ggas be fake
And most these n*ggas be rats
Still shippin' them packs, know they go for the low
They comin' in, where you at?

[Verse 1: YBN Nahmir]
Young n*gga trippin', got racks in the back
I had to put some forgi's on the Jag'
Y'all n*ggas broke and y'all ain't got no cash
It's problems, just slide, you know you gon' crash
Ayy, flippin' the pot
Runnin' from 12, with work in my sock
Your brother went fed, he be talkin' to cops
I gotta keep four, 'cause I'm still on the block
Ayy, I was broke, went and got them bands
Got money then I had to cop me a Lamb'
They shakin' ass, 'cause they know I'm the man
You tryna beef, you get blown like a fan
Ayy, drip too cold
Too much ice, got my wrist on froze
She sucked my di*k, but you kissed that ho
We seen that lick, so we kicked that door
[Chorus: YBN Nahmir & Comethazine]
I'm in the trap, too much bands on a young n*gga
Don't even know how to act
Get them racks, can't go work for another man
Most of these n*ggas be cap
Yeah, that's all facts, most of these n*ggas be fake
And most these n*ggas be rats
Still shippin' them packs, know they go for the low
They comin' in, where you at?
I'm in the trap, too much bands on a young n*gga
Don't even know how to act
Get them racks, can't go work for another man
Most of these n*ggas be cap
Yeah, that's all facts, most of these n*ggas be fake
And most these n*ggas be rats
Still shippin' them packs, know they go for the low
They comin' in, where you at? (b*tch)

[Verse 2: Comethazine]
Thirty round drum to the chest, it's a big AK (Yeah, yeah, b*tch)
Bullet holes rip straight through the back (Boom)
It's a big drum on the MAC, and it hold 1-5-0, hundred-fifty shots, never lack (b*tch, b*tch, aw yeah)
b*tch, I sleep with the strap, stay strapped up (b*tch, yeah)
Gotta keep the heat, blow a pus*y n*gga back (Come here)
b*tch, these sneak's on my feet cost one rack (b*tch, yeah)
You bought a pair, then your ass took them back (b*tch)
I just f*cked her through her dress
Then she squirted all on my lap (Ugh)
Snatch his chain up off his chest
No, he not gettin' it back (Come here)
If that n*gga wear a vest, then I'ma aim for his hat (b*tch, b*tch, boom)
b*tch I'm drippin' in Supreme like my first name was Pat (Aw yeah)
[Chorus: YBN Nahmir]
I'm in the trap, too much bands on a young n*gga
Don't even know how to act
Get them racks, can't go work for another man
Most of these n*ggas be cap
Yeah, that's all facts, most of these n*ggas be fake
And most these n*ggas be rats
Still shippin' them packs, know they go for the low
They comin' in, where you at?
I'm in the trap, too much bands on a young n*gga
Don't even know how to act
Get them racks, can't go work for another man
Most of these n*ggas be cap
Yeah, that's all facts, most of these n*ggas be fake
And most these n*ggas be rats
Still shippin' them packs, know they go for the low
They comin' in, where you at?