What It Is
Young Dro
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Young Dro, Young Dro Ladies and Gentlemen, this is a Jazze Phizzle production Young Drooo [Chorus:Repeat x2] Are you a killer? What it is Oh yeah, what it is Drug dealer, what it is Young player, riding's hard I just wanna sit up in the air Get high, I just wanna be up in the air I'm in the air (come down) Ain't coming down (why?) Up here dammit (where?) Ain't coming down (please) Bubbilish coat, twenty six's in the town I'm a killer too, Killing bitches in town Chevy with the beat down Make you spin around I could fishtail Off Fishdale Ask the niggas over there If I'm the shit there I don't tolerate My impala grape Bring the top out Bet I discombobulate I'm a tough nigga You a f*ck nigga See me in the club all prodded up nigga I got a semi too My whole penny do I got diamonds, earned like Winnie Pooh Given talapia And caviar for dinner too Mafia as a mother fucker Don't make me have to get at you I throw a hundred shots Plus fifty-two [Chorus:Repeat x2] My car actually Willy Wonka factory Ice look like raspberry These hoes tryna tackle me Nigga I'm a killer I suggest you don't come after me Bitch I'll be in Collipark Plus I'll 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 mess with me I don't play with little boys You trying to Michael Jackson me? Know a nigga ride in the air fantastically Till their daddy kill somethin else I put my rims up Actually, car flop purple when the sun come When it get dark that thing It'll look Dro won [Chorus:Repeat x2] 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 it off Can't you see someone on me you don't like And then lick it out We don't need to look at a town We rip em off My wrist forty Forget how much tip costs Buy a hundred k I don't wanna play Young Dro rides tall on a summer day Selling dope, it be junkies where my mama's day Bad hoes get treated like runaways Bitch you need to go home cool out and smoke a blunt today Go and say how my cutlass look like egg yolk I keep two with me all in the bed though My money fed though It's Grand Hustle bread boy We got twenty eight inches in the air What you scared for? [Chorus:Repeat x2]
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Written by: DJUAN HART, PHALON ALEXANDER, PHALON ANTON ALEXANDER
Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"What It Is Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 12 Oct. 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/9067519/Young+Dro/What+It+Is>.
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