​drummer ​rans0m (Ft. Yung Keeta)

Hah ay

[Chorus: rans0m]
Six feet in the ground
That's where my brodie put your brother
Feds at the door, I go undercover
They sleep on your shit, you go undiscovered
Bro keep a drum, he is not a drummer
Keep it low-key, stay away from drama
She gon 'eat me like I was her supper
She said "Keep the cash, I just want the uppers"
If you run up get your shit [?] he already been knowin' that I always been that guy
Why you dressed so bum, I got Evisu on my denim, everybody know I been too fly
Why you think shit funny, VIP at the club, and I brought my Glock inside
He gon' get [?] a headshot, that boy got sent to the sky

[Verse 1: rans0m]
They want a piece of the pie
Ain't no handouts I ain't goin' for that
I don't stay around, I just make it right back
Get my strap out, I'ma empty the mag
You a damn clown and you don't got no bag
He gon' crash out yeah he goin' out sad

[Verse 2: Keeta]
Stupid, I go stupid
I got different phones for different hoes, lil' boy I got groupies
Push up bitch get too it, yeah
Crash out bitch I do it
Sent me the beat and i loop it, yeah
Watch how I run right through it (Yeah)
Talkin' my shit up in Boston
I say the word and watch somebody drop him, yeah
R.I.P. that boy, you lost him
I say the word and your bitch off your roster, yeah
I gotta carry a chopper
Don't want your bitch 'cause I swear she a bopper, yeah
I done got rich, now I don't wear Lacoste
I need my million proper