Things have changed around this Muf*cka
And who's to say who's to blame Around this muf*cka
Stray bullet from a baby kill another Baby
Shit they don't give no f*ck
Cuz the state gon get they cut
And the church gon get they paper
Cemeteries plotting on u to nigga What u do
When every nigga that u ever knew
Now a angel too
We'll see me I rolled another doob And got me a tool
Game of life
You gotta know
The rules u can't be no fool
Chess shit boy
Niggaz still playing checkers
Get shot in the hood
After midnight
You might as well been in the Dessert
Cuz by time they put you on the Stretcher
He was unresponsive
He was unconscious
And his niggaz left him
This this the 2nd time
Both my niggaz gone
May they rest in peace
Niggaz took off
Left em in the street
Ion know dem niggaz
Don't trust den niggaz
Don't post up nor smoke
Wit niggaz just slide by
And I fork a nigga
No love lost
This the streets nigga
Cuz it's no love in the streets nigga
Plus I ain't got time for no beef nigga
If it ain't got shit to do wit me nigga
I do me like a his bitch nigga
Finna roll up me a 6 hitta
Pyramids that's 3 swishers
2 at the bottom 1 on top
Eyes rolling cuz weed got em
I'm high as f*ck can't see a bottom
In da backseat don Illa driving
He pass the bottle then hit the Throttle
Gang signs and my niggaz bobbing
G shit my niggaz mobbing
Crack a window
My head is throbbing
Cuz I chase the weed
Wit a black mild
And my bitch tripping this bitch Wild
My shit booming can lay around
So popped zan off in her shit
When she nodded off my eyes lit
All night on my trap shit
Strapped up wit my pack shit
I ain't made me a stack yet
1 thought then my phone tip
Red light light on my hand scale
Transact after the bag rip
All I got is grinchos
I can call the guys for that other shit
They fresh out like a pizza tho
U might need u an oven mitt
Hot boys we da flame click
Finesse fam on sum stain shit
30 shots on my steph shit
If I blast em all I can't miss
Excuse me yall if my mind drift
But I'm stuck between a hard place
Jus smoking weed or let the 9 rip Gone
York$ta - Things Have Changed Lyrics
York$ta - Things Have Changed Lyrics
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Things have changed around this Muf*cka
And who's to say who's to blame Around this muf*cka
Stray bullet from a baby kill another Baby
Shit they don't give no f*ck
Cuz the state gon get they cut
And the church gon get they paper
Cemeteries plotting on u to nigga What u do
When every nigga that u ever knew
Now a angel too
We'll see me I rolled another doob And got me a tool
Game of life
You gotta know
The rules u can't be no fool
Chess shit boy
Niggaz still playing checkers
Get shot in the hood
After midnight
You might as well been in the Dessert
Cuz by time they put you on the Stretcher
He was unresponsive
He was unconscious
And his niggaz left him
This this the 2nd time
Both my niggaz gone
May they rest in peace
Niggaz took off
Left em in the street
Ion know dem niggaz
Don't trust den niggaz
Don't post up nor smoke
Wit niggaz just slide by
And I fork a nigga
No love lost
This the streets nigga
Cuz it's no love in the streets nigga
Plus I ain't got time for no beef nigga
If it ain't got shit to do wit me nigga
I do me like a his bitch nigga
Finna roll up me a 6 hitta
Pyramids that's 3 swishers
2 at the bottom 1 on top
Eyes rolling cuz weed got em
I'm high as f*ck can't see a bottom
In da backseat don Illa driving
He pass the bottle then hit the Throttle
Gang signs and my niggaz bobbing
G shit my niggaz mobbing
Crack a window
My head is throbbing
Cuz I chase the weed
Wit a black mild
And my bitch tripping this bitch Wild
My shit booming can lay around
So popped zan off in her shit
When she nodded off my eyes lit
All night on my trap shit
Strapped up wit my pack shit
I ain't made me a stack yet
1 thought then my phone tip
Red light light on my hand scale
Transact after the bag rip
All I got is grinchos
I can call the guys for that other shit
They fresh out like a pizza tho
U might need u an oven mitt
Hot boys we da flame click
Finesse fam on sum stain shit
30 shots on my steph shit
If I blast em all I can't miss
Excuse me yall if my mind drift
But I'm stuck between a hard place
Jus smoking weed or let the 9 rip Gone
And who's to say who's to blame Around this muf*cka
Stray bullet from a baby kill another Baby
Shit they don't give no f*ck
Cuz the state gon get they cut
And the church gon get they paper
Cemeteries plotting on u to nigga What u do
When every nigga that u ever knew
Now a angel too
We'll see me I rolled another doob And got me a tool
Game of life
You gotta know
The rules u can't be no fool
Chess shit boy
Niggaz still playing checkers
Get shot in the hood
After midnight
You might as well been in the Dessert
Cuz by time they put you on the Stretcher
He was unresponsive
He was unconscious
And his niggaz left him
This this the 2nd time
Both my niggaz gone
May they rest in peace
Niggaz took off
Left em in the street
Ion know dem niggaz
Don't trust den niggaz
Don't post up nor smoke
Wit niggaz just slide by
And I fork a nigga
No love lost
This the streets nigga
Cuz it's no love in the streets nigga
Plus I ain't got time for no beef nigga
If it ain't got shit to do wit me nigga
I do me like a his bitch nigga
Finna roll up me a 6 hitta
Pyramids that's 3 swishers
2 at the bottom 1 on top
Eyes rolling cuz weed got em
I'm high as f*ck can't see a bottom
In da backseat don Illa driving
He pass the bottle then hit the Throttle
Gang signs and my niggaz bobbing
G shit my niggaz mobbing
Crack a window
My head is throbbing
Cuz I chase the weed
Wit a black mild
And my bitch tripping this bitch Wild
My shit booming can lay around
So popped zan off in her shit
When she nodded off my eyes lit
All night on my trap shit
Strapped up wit my pack shit
I ain't made me a stack yet
1 thought then my phone tip
Red light light on my hand scale
Transact after the bag rip
All I got is grinchos
I can call the guys for that other shit
They fresh out like a pizza tho
U might need u an oven mitt
Hot boys we da flame click
Finesse fam on sum stain shit
30 shots on my steph shit
If I blast em all I can't miss
Excuse me yall if my mind drift
But I'm stuck between a hard place
Jus smoking weed or let the 9 rip Gone
Writer: Brenton York
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid