paroles de chanson What It Is - Young Dro
Young
Dro,
Young
Dro
(Girl:)
Ladies
and
Gentlemen,
this
is
a
Jazze
Phizzle
production
Young
Drooo
(Chorus:
x2)
Ah
you
a
killa?
What
it
is
Hell
Yeah,
What
it
is
Drug
dealer,
what
it
is
Young
playa,
ridin
tall
I
just
wanna
sit
up
in
the
air
Get
high,
I
just
wanna
be
up
in
the
air
(Verse:)
I'm
in
the
air
(come
down)
Ain't
comin
down
(why?)
Up
here
dammit
(where?)
Ain't
comin
down
(please)
Bubbilish
car,
26's
in
the
town
I'm
a
killa
too,
Killin
bitches
in
the
town
Chevy
with
the
beat
down
Make
you
spin
around
I
could
fishtail
On
Fishscale
Ask
the
niggas
over
there
If
i'm
the
shit
there
(he
the
shit!)
I
don't
tolerate
My
Impala
great
Bring
the
choppa
out
Bet
I
discombobulate
I'm
a
tough
nigga
You
a
f**k-nigga
See
me
in
the
club
all
Prada'd
up
nigga
I
got
a
semi
too
My
hoe
jimmy
choo
I
got
diamonds,
orange
like
Winnie
Pooh
Get
the
Talapia
And
caviar
for
dinner
too
Mafia
as
a
mother
f**ka
Don't
make
me
have
to
get
at
you
I
throw
a
hundered
shots
(nigga)
Plus
fifty
two
- "Dro!"
(Chorus
x2)
(Verse
2:)
My
car
actually
Willy
Wonka
factory
Ice
look
like
rasberry
These
hoes
be
tryin
to
tackle
me
Nigga
I'm
a
killa
i
suggest
you
don't
come
after
me
Bitch
I'll
be
in
Collipark
Plus
I'll
be
on
Mcafee
Bankhead
faculty
Boy
you
need
to
rap
with
me
Come
and
talk
to
me
Before
I
open
up
your
cavity
Shots
come
rapidly
I
told
you
not
to
blast
at
me
me
I
don't
play
with
lil
boys
You
tryin
to
Michael
Jackson
me?
Know
a
nigga
ridin
in
the
air
fantastically
Til
the
day
they
kill
us
I'll
never
put
my
rims
up
Actually,
car
flop
purple
when
the
sun
come
When
it
get
dark
For
that
thang
we
let
the
drum-plum
(Chorus
x2)
(Verse
3:)
Mink
coat
Shit
polar
bear
Hoes
over
here
Hoes
over
there
I'm
about
to
take
flight
I'm
goin
in
the
air
Candy
with
the
gloss
I'm
about
to
lift
off
Case
you
see
somethin
you
don't
like
Then
lick
it
off
(lick)
We
don't
need
to
look
at
the
time
We
rip
em
off
My
wrist
40
But
guess
how
much
Tip
costs?
Bout
$100K,
i
don't
wanna
play
Young
Dro
riding
tall
on
a
summer
day
Sellin
dope,
it
be
junkies
where
my
momma
stay
Bad
hoes
get
treated
like
runaways
Bitch
you
need
to
go
home
cool
out
and
smoke
a
blunt
today
Go
and
say
it
ho
my
cutlass
look
like
egg
yolk
I
keep
a
tool
with
me
all
in
the
bed
though
My
money
fed
though
It's
Grand
Hustle
bread
boy
We
just
28
inches
in
the
air
What
you
scared
for?
(Chorus
x2)
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