Young Chris Na Na Freestyle Lyrics


Na Na (Freestyle) by Young Chris

I got a plan to get it straight off the block
You boys hustle good, you get paid off the top
Uh, switch ships like the dawn, get that rush up in the mon
Get the fuck up out yo sleep nigga, hustle til it's gone
Rental cus he can't afford the whip
Nigga the hustle like Russell cus he can't afford the chip
Went against the judge like he can't afford a tip
Now he's sittin back with life and he can't afford a pill
Back to the gudda where them boys flippin butter
War when it's war, man them boys sex yo mother
Ta ta ta, hit it just because you love er
Hit it just because you sucka
Soldier niggas undercover

Nigga ride around strapped
Keep a couple pistols
Catch ‘em up in traffic
Pussy what's the issue?
Colt 40 fever, rip a couple ligaments
Just for being disrespectful, motherfuckers ignorant
Index itchin, nigga shooters on a mission
Big big ladders, ever rugas on extension
Rather be broke than be livin in a skirt
Niggas gay, fuckin vic, suckin dick to get a verse
Tag on this too, now they get to bring that hearse
They shoot and tell em, that's the gift between the curse
Fuck these niggas, they a lie cus they a pussy
You gon hit some big shit?
Fine, they pushed me

Whole damn block say caution
Some body identified, pick up the coffin
Nobody will ever know his body was auctioned
His body was double barreled, I shot him and tossed it
Hitters with the niggas, these pussy niggas, they start shit
Hit him with the nini, the bitch I put them apart with
Shinin with my niggas, he ones I live in the dark with
Down and all the bitches, the ones you niggas be oh shit
Ciao baby, be backin up, I can talk shit
We don't call em back, we just smashin and then we off shit
Rehab Vegas, my playas I had a ball with
Check pow, 40 be killin bitches, we all in

No shirts, I'm tatted up with Juda
Walkin through the club, them thirsty bitches will choose up
She a label whore son I see switch and do's up
New red bottoms, heavy picture, liftin her shoes up
Give a fuck about homie, he's a pooper
Keep talkin that bullshit and get yo boof up
Point guard, still I'm a shooter, I pick that 2 up
Prom Bron, and prime time, I lift the crew up
Back for a flash like how the fuck we forget it?
I'll tell you one thing, this time yall gonna mean it
Nigga the truth, nigga this booth is the block I hustle
Niggas ain't got my job but still don't got my struggle
Now the booth keep callin, streets callin too
You fools keep trollin, hate yall too
My attitude, what the fuck is he gonna do?
Yo homie dead nigga, you can be gone too

Say he tryna stay alive, struggle I survive
24/7 cus I hustle 9 to 5
So I fuckin chop, kept hustlers on they job
We whip powder and some butter on the side
Now gunnin ain't good, chemists in the kitchen
With all this style it's Louis in my stitchin
Stuart on the backpack, Ruby on the mac pack
Travel around the world girl, plenty land to crash at
Spot her from a distance when that ass fat
Like the twerk team, run that ass back
They don't drop it low, move fast but slow
Til my class is in session, be a witness to the flow
I'm alive niggas
Haha

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