NBA YoungBoy – Carter Son | Lyrics Video

Lyrics "Carter Son" - NBA YoungBoy (YoungBoy Never Broke Again)

You’re a Genius, McFly
AI, it’s the Carter’s son
The Carter’s
Turn me up a lil’

Picture me, new 3D denim, I’m city rollin’
But did I mention this my own clothin’
The f**k you mean
Made n**ga, bought my own Rollie
But if them crackers pull me over
they gon’ say I stole it

Good mornin’, we on it
I went bought two S trophies
My father left my sis and bros
To them, I feel I owed it
But let’s not be heroic
‘Cause everybody roguish
They don’t want us totin’ guns
But they let the f**kin’ killers tote it

Let’s take a ride and see, though
Where them people be, though
Colt 45, the grip design
Bought this b**ch from Casino
Soprano, no Soprino
We live life like Yung Bino
Had a show in B-more
After that post on the block with Chino

Look for a star on every hundred, C note
I’m the top on YouTube
F**k a new school, I don’t use no Vevo
These n**gas ’round me, they too cruel
They bust tools and die for me, though
I don’t pay money for no life
The murder pay off me, so

Came out alright
But I’m blinded from the life
I can’t see, though
Got juveniles on the block
Thirty stick hangin’ out the Glock
Bandana tied ’round the clip
And they go all out for me, though

Sucked all the pain up
Let’s f**k the game up
Plenty n**gas on the block
Pushin’ that rock, it’s the Carter’s son
You got your change up
They brought your name up
When it’s war, we wet they block
And when it’s said
This s**t’ll never be done

I can’t say I’m f**king with all this involvement
These n**gas ain’t right and they ballin’
I don’t give a f**k, no, I call up Osama, my baba
Like, load up and come and rob all them

Venezuela ventilator
My first trip to Georgia made ’em
Some companions with ambitions, was
Double G, NBA native
I wish baptism could’ve saved us
Never broke until the grave in
Excuse ourselves, knock on the tables
I make a p**sy bite the pavement

I can’t say I’m f**king with all this involvement
These n**gas ain’t right and they ballin’
I don’t give a f**k, no, I call up Osama, my baba
Like, load up and come and rob all them

Came out alright
But I’m blinded from the life
I can’t see, though
Got juveniles on the block
Thirty stick hangin’ out the Glock
Bandana tied ’round the clip
And they go all out for me, though

That’s my son, that’s my slime
He on my dime
It’s the Carter’s son…

➤ Written by YoungBoy Never Broke Again (NBA YoungBoy)
Album: AI YoungBoy 2
Produced by Money Montage, Aura & KK McFly
YoungBoy Never Broke Again | 2019

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *