JayDaYoungan – Down To Business Lyrics | Official Video

Lyrics Down To Business – JayDaYoungan

They got to show me pictures of my opps
Like, who is that man
The same n**ga we hopped out on
All black like Batman
For all that dissin’ leave that b**ch
Smellin’ just like the trash can
B**ch, ain’t no smilin’, I be wildin’
They made me a madman, hha

Want pressure
Yeah, my n**ga down to clear the business
I finger f**k the Glizzy
Plus the stick came wit’ some titties
The Glock came wit’ a dick
Who tryna f**k, He in his feelings
Since he actin’ like a p**sy
I’m gon’ make sure that he feel it

We gon hit him sixty times
He got stood over for a minute
My n**ga slangin’ iron
And they’ll die behind ..
B**ch, I throw up gang signs
I’m out my mind, yeah, I’m a menace
And I’ma bang behind mine
No back and forth, ain’t playin’ tennis

And I say yatta spin the block and he gon’ do it like a Frisbee
And I’m like, Damn, bro
How the f**k you do that s**t without gettin’ dizzy
He want beef We cook his p**sy ass like we had a job at Wendy’s
They like rep on s**t we step on s**t without a pair of titties

The stick gon’ tuck, they know it’s up, I’m like, Who tryna get it
She wanna f**k, I’m like, What’s up, Your back, you gotta bend it
But that’s enough about a slut, let me get back to business
B**ch, we bust him up and hit his skull, so it’s a fact, he finished

And that’s a murder, b**ch, we do some s**t they never heard of, b**ch
We like to swerve on s**t, my 23’s, they down to murk a b**ch
I got this dirty stick, f**k Instagram, on some imperson s**t
They shoot, he holdin’ steel, ain’t on no nervous s**t, that murder s**t

My n**gas like to go and take it, they don’t work for s**t
Like a big booty b**ch when she naked, b**ch, we twerkin’ bricks
I get the bag, I like to get it fast, like, on some urgent s**t
Cross over, take a shot and drop his ass, some Kyrie Irvin s**t

I’m sweatin’ hard and I’m scratchin’ ’cause I’m on them Perky’s, b**ch
I ain’t hard to find, b**ch, stop all that lyin’, b**ch, you ain’t searchin’, b**ch
You n**gas dyin’ when we catch you, we been on some lurkin’ s**t
Or catch him f**kin’ that nasty b**ch wit’ your lil’ dirty dick

B**ch, we be posted by the stop sign, tell these n**gas stop hidin’
I hope you clutchin’ on your Glock now, ’cause, b**ch, I got mine
Tell these p**sy n**gas stop tryin’, they playin’, shots firin’
The Draco shorter than a b**ch like where you at this stock hidin’

I be flexin’ out in Texas, b**ch, I got the mob ties
F**k that textin’, we addressin’, we already outside
We gon’ bless him, wipe his nose and make sure all the snot dry
And since that b**ch think he can see me, we shoot out the opps eyes

We leave his face up on the TV, tell your mama bye-bye
Then when it’s done and they achieve it, give my guys a high-five
We clutchin’ drums, them b**ches greasy, they ain’t come from Popeyes
And where I’m from we trigger squeezin’, damn near make the cops hide

They got to show me pictures of my opps
Like, who is that man
The same n**ga we hopped out on
All black like Batman
For all that dissin’ leaνe that b**ch
Smellin’ just like the trash can
B**ch, ain’t no smilin’, I be wildin’
They made me a madman, hha

Want pressure
Yeah, my n**ga down to clear the business
I finger f**k the Glizzy
Plus the stick came wit’ some titties
The Glock came wit’ a dick
Who tryna f**k, He in his feelings
Since he actin’ like a p**sy
I’m gon’ make sure that he feel it

Make sure that he feel it, yeah, hmm..④…

➤ Written by JayDaYoungan
Album: Baby23
Produced by BT Grin & Trapman TwoThree
JayDaYoungan | 2020

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