Yung Redd & Lil Ron

Yung Redd & Lil Ron - 7-1-3 lyrics

rate me

(feat. Gritboyz)

[talking:]

Yeah 7-1-3 new South, Sucka Free

In the trunk, we on your heels mayn

Holla back, come on come on

[Yung Redd:]

Only if you knew, I'm playing by my own rules

Keep a new pair of 22's, for the old school

Neck full of rose gold, hoes spreading the news

Even them days I was broke, I was paying dues

A hundred miles and running, you couldn't fill my shoes

I break bread with my niggaz, yeah that's what niggaz do

These clowns plotting on me, got me looking in my rear

Nothing but blood and shedding tears, through most of my years

But anyway I showed and proved, to most of my peers

Sooner or later, recognized me as a pioneer

Who would of thought, that I'd be playing the right cards

And more grain than a lawn, in your front yard

Now you can tell, we all about them dollar bills y'all

Plus I got 24 inches, on my wheels y'all

Them niggaz playing mayn, I gotta keep it real y'all

I'm on the grind, so I get it how I live y'all - 2x

[Lil' Ron:]

I'm money getting, while niggaz slipping they really tripping

I'm on a mission, peep how I'm living them chicks is flipping

Now pay attention and listen, the game ain't switching

Did I mention if it's tension, then your lil' ass missing

Stop depending on niggaz, and get your own cash

I love spending that money quick, so I make it fast

And it seems, some of these rap niggaz flow is trash

But me, I'm leaving the bank with big money bags

Don't try to snatch my shit, nigga I will blast

Them hollow tips, got your ass stuck to the grass

The spinners on the drop, look like they doing cart-wheels

My money long, like I discovered the arch build

[Hook: x3]

I represent, that 7-1-3 nigga

[Scooby:]

It's them hustler stacking, ghetto reality live from the H

And the truth is, we got it on fire in the H

So no problem, we don't mind taking your place

We ain't come for the chump change, we came for the safe

And hey, thrown in the field

If you ain't never been in the real car, that wasn't going very far

Or you just a stupid nigga, let them other dummies move with ya

Cause y'all, ain't taking down Scoob' nigga

[Unique:]

I'm Grit-tastic, these hoes adore this

I'm on point with my bucks, like TJ Ford g'eah

You niggaz is worthless, got no purpose

Might as well be a sideshow, and work for a circus ay

I'm bout my fast money, ask around

And if you ask bout my money, hit your ass with pounds clowns

7-1-3, you ain't noticed

Unique that bastard boy, I'm so focused

[Poppy:]

Guess who's back in the mix, from the land where they package and ship

Crack on the strips, we added to get the cabbage and split

And for the cabbage, automatics'll rip

Baggies to bits, by any means when we after the chips

Fuck being average ships, you need power to play

Whether you work a nine to five, or turn powder to yay

Get out the way, that's how he put it down in the H

We ride chrome, a inch for every hour of the day ay

[Hook x3]

Yeah-yeah, holla at me

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

Share your thoughts

0 Comments found