Fatha Ferg - Yosemite Sam

No shirt, showin tats, Buffalo Bills fittd on
MCGz at yo front door, choppers out... ding dong
Hammers bigga den king kong
Hella smokey lik Snoop lungs
Kill the perfect man lik “no biggie”
Now that's just dead wrong 
I'll pull up and have shoot outs goin back and 4th... ping pong
As you can see I neva fall I'm always the last man standin strong
And the barrel extra long
Smoked yo ass cheech and Chong
Black lives matter right? Black power
Mastodon
Foien cars, ice out... yea I get ma stuntin on
Keys, bricks, grams, ounces...yea I get ma hustle on
George, Lin, Jack...Ham, and Benji we all get along
Bad bitches wit the mag....yea I get ma pipin on
All black wit a bat man... time to get ma robbin on
Gotta feed ma fam, pockets hungry so fuck yall
I got shells that’ll move ya organs from place to place lik a Uhaul
Bullets get delivered as if ma gun played for Utah
Niggas would cross you (Cross you) just for a couple of grams (Grams)
Run up in ya crib, rob you and tie up ya fam (Fam)
I aint got nutin to worry about I got hammers man (Mannnn)
Stay strap'd up lik Yosemite Sam (Sam)
Like Yosemite Sam (Sam)
Like Yosemite Sam (Sam)
2 Twin revolvers lik Yosemite Sam (Sam)
Like Yosemite Sam (Sam)
Like Yosemite Sam (Sam)
2 Twin revolvers (Volvers)
Like Yosemite Sam (Sam)
1 Shot (1 Shot) 2shots (2 Shots)
3 Shots 4shots 5shots
6 Shots (6 Shots) 7shots (7 Shots) 8shots 9shots 10shots
I got (I got) revolvers (Volvers) That holds 5shots (5 Shots)
I got (I got) revolvers (Volvers) That holds 5shots
I’ll put the gun to ya skull... have u begging for a preacha
Puttin mo bullets in ya head... than MJ got sneakers
Pop yo top off... leave ya brains... in ya thinkin place
Got your girl giving me more tongue than a shoelace
Swallowed so many kids, everything she say is childish
No kid left behind... she made sure that I was childless
I couldn’t shoot up the club... kuz a nigga was so lifeless
She wanted to b my main course... you substitute side dish
Actin a fool in the whip... while I’m goin fast she’s furious
Pimpin all over the world, bitches pussy poppin lik I’m Ludacris
On a hand stand, I’m the damn man
Sooperman lover... redman
I ran to bomb that pussy
But you dropped the bomb on me... Gap band
I’m on fire man... Johnny blaze, Johnny Storm
400 Degrees... since a juvenile I been a hot boy
Now that I’m big... it’s mo money mo problems
Even life after death... I got my twin revolvers
Niggas would cross you (Cross you) just for a couple of grams (Grams)
Run up in ya crib, rob you and tie up ya fam (Fam)
I aint got nutin to worry about I got hammers man (Mannnnn)
Stay strap'd up lik Yosemite Sam (Sam)
Like Yosemite Sam(Sam)
Like Yosemite Sam(Sam)
2 Twin revolvers lik Yosemite Sam (Sam)
Like Yosemite Sam (Sam)
Like Yosemite Sam (Sam)
2 Twin revolvers (Volvers)
Like Yosemite Sam (Sam)
1 Shot (1 Shot) 2shots (2 Shots)
3 Shots 4shots 5shots
6 Shots (6 Shots) 7shots (7 Shots) 8shots 9shots 10shots
I got (I got) revolvers (Volvers) That holds 5shots (5 Shots)
I got (I got) revolvers (Volvers) That holds 5shots

Written by:
Tim Ferguson Jr

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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