Yung Drippy - Long Live Old Fredo Lyrics

Bro spot a opp on the corner
When I'm in the field, she throw it back Kurt Warner
We sent that boy to the sky turnt his mom to a mourner
Brodie gon beat up the pack like Adrian Broner
Where was you at in the morning?
I can't talk right now baby girl I'm touring
Bitch I don't sip but this wockhardt lean what I'm pourin
Bad lil bitch named Morgan
Yeah
In the stu chillin back wit my members
I gotta 2 toned bustdown AP shit so cold like December
Back in the days used to post on the block wit OG but he couldn't even remember
I told lil shorty like "please don't test me" I gotta real bad temper
I got a real bad taste
Bitch keep hittin my phone like bitch get the fuck out my face
Yung Drippy Dri in the trap house I got my own damn place
Try to run up on the gang you gon get sprayed like
You gon get sprayed like mace, mace
Walk down run down
Nigga got scared from the gun sound
We spun his block, what now?
Brodie gon count up a hunnid thou
Brodie gon count up a hunnid bands
Yung Drippy Dri I'm the money man
Member when I ain't had no fans
Fake ass niggas tryn be friends
Bro spot a opp on the corner
When I'm in the field, she throw it back Kurt Warner
We sent that boy to the sky turnt his mom to a mourner
Brodie gon beat up the pack like Adrian Broner
Where was you at in the morning?
I can't talk right now baby girl I'm touring
Bitch I don't sip but this wockhardt lean what I'm pourin
Bad lil bitch named Morgan (What)

Bro spot a opp on the corner
When I'm in the field, she throw it back Kurt Warner
We sent that boy to the sky turnt his mom to a mourner
Brodie gon beat up the pack like Adrian Broner
Where was you at in the morning?
I can't talk right now baby girl I'm touring
Bitch I don't sip but this wockhardt lean what I'm pourin
Bad lil bitch named Morgan
Yeah
In the stu chillin back wit my members
I gotta 2 toned bustdown AP shit so cold like December
Back in the days used to post on the block wit OG but he couldn't even remember
I told lil shorty like "please don't test me" I gotta real bad temper
I got a real bad taste
Bitch keep hittin my phone like bitch get the fuck out my face
Yung Drippy Dri in the trap house I got my own damn place
Try to run up on the gang you gon get sprayed like
You gon get sprayed like mace, mace
Walk down run down
Nigga got scared from the gun sound
We spun his block, what now?
Brodie gon count up a hunnid thou
Brodie gon count up a hunnid bands
Yung Drippy Dri I'm the money man
Member when I ain't had no fans
Fake ass niggas tryn be friends
Bro spot a opp on the corner
When I'm in the field, she throw it back Kurt Warner
We sent that boy to the sky turnt his mom to a mourner
Brodie gon beat up the pack like Adrian Broner
Where was you at in the morning?
I can't talk right now baby girl I'm touring
Bitch I don't sip but this wockhardt lean what I'm pourin
Bad lil bitch named Morgan (What)