Die With Me

[Intro: YB Nemy]
Ayy, this that hollow shit
Every word in this bitch fake, don't get it twisted (Don’t get it fucked up)
All cap, all vibes, no real crimes, you feel me?
Still gon’ sound like a goddamn body get dropped though
CrayzoBeatz, crank that fire—bitch

[Chorus: YB Nemy]
Fuck a vest, come die with me, we pop shit out in broad day (Boom!)
He tweetin’ tough, he lyin’ though, his goofy ass got shot same day (Bitch!)
We don’t talk, we don’t parlay—just ride up, hop out, let K’s spray (Boom, boom, boom!)
He a bitch, he hid in hallways, I want war, not no damn fame (Nah)
Told bro, “Grab gloves, we maskin’,” next thing you know, the news said tragic (Haha)
I don’t do no back-and-forth, we drill, reload, stretch out traffic (Skrrt!)
You diss, you dyin’—simple math, I ain’t the type to post no captions (Fuck no)
We just ride, we just crashin', body bag and toe taggin’

[Verse 1: YB Nemy]
Hunnid rounds stuffed in a duffle (Boom), I ain't never ran from trouble (Never)
Buddy got popped on Sunday, now his mom cryin' in puddles (Cry bitch)
Damn, they say I rap too violent (Too bad), but I ain't changin’ nothin’
Cops askin’ questions, I’m silent—fuck twelve, I ain’t sayin' nothin’ (Pussy)
My shorty a demon, he twelve years old, tryna spin just like it's GTA (Grah!)
He seen his opp, then grinned real hard, then emptied a whole ass .38 (Boom!)
You ain’t gangsta, you TikTok funny, your ass just playin’ roles (Goofy)
Try to slide on us? You end up missin', laid out with tag on toes (Bye-bye!)
I don’t trust no hoe, that bitch too nosy—gotta cut her off like switches (Snip snip)
You pillow-talkin’? She recordin’—you get lined up by them bitches

[Verse 2: 4Block Lil Mari]
I said fuck that talk, let’s ride, no mask on, just pain in my eyes (Skrrt!)
Hop out broad day, let the lead fly, that Glock sing lullabies (Boom, boom)
Buddy froze up, ain't bust back—lil' dude shoulda stayed inside (Bitch!)
We push up close, no drive-bys, ARs hit him in his spine (Brrah!)
Tell me what the fuck is fear? We loadin’ clips on New Year’s (Click-clack!)
Shootout on 9th, left buddy stiff—he folded just like a chair (Boom!)
Niggas keep on talkin’ "slide," but never outside when it's time (Pussy!)
My opps like hoes, they hide, they textin' threats, not ridin’ (Goof!)
We on they block like curb paint, them boys get stomped like ants
We known for sendin’ shots, and havin’ funerals chant (Rest up, bitch)
Feds might be listenin’, but I don’t care—this all real, no cap (Nope)
Still rap like I seen brains blown, and zipped that body bag (Fah!)

[Chorus: YB Nemy & 4Block Lil Mari]
Fuck a vest, come die with me, we pop shit out in broad day (Boom!)
He tweetin’ tough, he lyin’ though, his goofy ass got shot same day (Pussy!)
We don’t talk, we don’t parlay—just ride up, hop out, let K’s spray (Let it spray!)
He a bitch, he hid in hallways, I want war, not no damn fame (Bitch!)
Told bro, “Grab gloves, we maskin’,” next thing you know, the news said tragic (Woo!)
I don’t do no back-and-forth, we drill, reload, stretch out traffic (Skrrt!)
You diss, you dyin’—simple math, I ain’t the type to post no captions (Nah)
We just ride, we just crashin', body bag and toe taggin’ (Boom!)

[Outro: YB Nemy]
Don’t get this shit confused, it’s all props
Ain’t shit real, just music
But if it was… heh
You already know