Westside Gunn Flygod Jr Lyrics

Uh-hm
A decade strong
You know when I first started DJ’ing, all I wanted to do was get my name on a flyer
Now I’m flyer than ever

So who better to introduce the Fly God than me?
Cultural art at it’s finest
Welcome, to Hitler Wears Hermes 10
Oh yeah, DJ Drama (Flygod)

Ayo
Where you was at when I was sellin’ those eights? (Ah)
That’s the two seater, just me and the Drac’
Fiend said he comin’ right back, I said “K”
Duffle bag got the ward, Freddie [?]

Margiela see-throughs, sleeps, see thе gates (Boom-boom-boom)
Bought a new dick, cost three hundred, plain janе
Don’t you stuff ten, but I just went fifty
Central Park out on Leroy in the Bentley (Skrrt)

Rest In Peace Dick, you was in my left titty
Rest in peace [?], king of my city
Post got bodies on bodies (Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom)
All my jewels on make a nigga wanna ride me (Ah)

Think shit sweet I had you niggas on a diet
Shooter sixteen, three and o with the fire (Ah)
Nigga said he got the shits from me, he a liar (Ah)
Your bitch fuckin with me overseas, she a (Gangsta Grillz)

Got muscle cocaine (Cocaine)
Kicks two thousands, shits don’t got no name (Ah, uh-uh)
Fiends at the house it look like soul train (Soul train)
Cherry [?], I got road rage (Skrrt)

Make sure it’s filled when you unload it
You ain’t shootin’ shit, no you can’t hold it
My nigga rock a blue, cuz stay rollin’

My boss wearin’ red, nigga stay blowin’
That nigga on a run, and I don’t know (I don’t know)
You don’t know him but your hoe know him (Oh really, Gangsta Grillz)

Hell of a run we havin’, huh
This Gangsta Grillz dough got me spendin’ a lot of money on Hermes (Hahahahaha)
Doe Boy!
Oh really

I don’t like repeating myself, it’s only one time I’ma tell you
One thing for sure, them Glocks won’t feel you,I keep the guns just like Griselda (Bow-bow-bow)
I got richer than my teachers, but they said I’ll be a failure (Fools)

I make niggas’ mommas cry, guess I don’t respect my elders (Oh, really)
Like youngboy finesse his draws, bitch you better knock off what he sell you

You better not come on this block, he up that chop’, the hammer nail you
Tried to tell you, had to teach your ass a lesson
My boy a demon, God he don’t believe in, bitch he step on peasants (Bow-bow-bow)

We got Dracos, not no Smith & Wessons, bitch we really reckless
Got that .30 on my left hip, up it quicker than half a second
What we been through, bet the opps gon’ be on point, who wanna bet it?

Said you was a killer, I heard him said it, but I’m the type to come through your credit
If I feel her, I’ll go get her, I’m the the type to swipe my debit (Come here baby)

I be steppin’, I’m not petty, I’m the type to ice her Patek
Ice her pedicure, drape her in Dior, we did that before
You just rap, ain’t really behind bars before, except your metaphors (Oh, really, Gangsta Grillz)

That’s ten times we put on a masterclass for you now
When you niggas gon’ realize?
You can’t do what we do
Legendary.