Lebeau St Posse

[Intro]
On foenem
My nigga Wop in here, I gotta say "On foenem," you hear me?
Yes, sir
My nigga Wop in here
LSP, nigga, LSP the mafia, LSP, yeah, yeah
You hurry the fuck up?
Yeah, keep all that

[Verse 1: YSR Gramz]
I don't give a fuck about who you with or who you hang with
Put my niggas on your fuckin' head, yeah, that's gang 'nem
I put my trust in my niggas, know they won't switch
You better put that money up, 'cause when it's gone, them bitches dip
I keep fallin' off, I gotta get a grip
That P90 get to shootin' like it got a switch
Fuckin' all these hoes like I ain't got a bitch
I spazz on everything 'cause I ain't got a hit

[Verse 2: Don Perrion]
Niggas ain't fuckin' with the Don, we can bet on it
I'll rеally tweak the fuck out like I'm Big Homiе
Park a nigga whip like we park loads on Gabe corner
I was playin' 'round with BB guns, ain't play for Pop Warner
Nigga, free Lil Joe, he was out here tryna rob somethin'
Brother got two years, he comin' home to some clean money
Distro playin' good, I just took off a sleeve on it
I can't stop the drank, I done turned to a lean junkie

[Verse 3: YSR Loski]
Fucked her good off two Percs, bitch got me out my element
Head game out this world, ooh, shit, it was heaven-sent
I don't know what Jay poured up, he ain't measure it
Have you ever seen a shootout? It get scary quick
How the fuck I'm racist? Pockets full of white presidents
Nigga paid me twice for some 'bows that was never sent
I seen a nigga get clipped at the party, I been totin' since
Niggas out here bangin' all type of shit, but don't know they lick

[Verse 4: YSR Dee Rich]
7.62 green tips, I got bad bitches
Mad as hell leavin' the club, I blew a bag in it
I'm finna shoot the club up, I seen— in it
Glocks kinda stutter when they shoot, it's somethin' fast in it
When I pull up to Moneris, bitch, I'm baggin' it
392 widebody, brodie draggin' it
I just drunk a four to the face, it was mad hittin'
Take a nigga sack out his hands and play Madden with it

[Verse 5: YSR Gramz]
I got a play for five 'bows, I'm finna take a cab
You be sneak dissin' on the 'net, that shit make me laugh
My baby mama trippin' over hoes, that shit make me mad
Gettin' head high as hell, almost made me crash

[Verse 6: Don Perrion]
They need to free Ralo, he had dogs, the fiends need it
Real Beecher baby, I made sales all under the bleachers
They don't know Dee Rich my lil' spider, but I call him Peter
Catch a nigga lackin', hawk you down, we gon' SRT him

[Verse 7: YSR Loski]
Broke a bitch heart and cut into her like, "I didn't mean it"
Put a nigga on a milk carton, they still ain't seen him
I can make this money reappear like I got a genie
If you catch me in the Walmart, I ain't schemin'

[Verse 8: YSR Dee Rich]
I just sold a brick to the feds, that's how you niggas sound
Cho get on the plane with footballs, he's finna touch down
He tried to pull up actin' hard and got fapped down
Jumped out the whip, he tried to run and I hawked him down