Pot Roast Lyrics
[Intro: Young Nudy]
(Yo, Pi'erre, you wanna come out here?)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, kill that motherf*cker talkin' shit, y'all know what I'm sayin'? For real
Haters are motivators (Shit, shit), get some motherf*cker paper
Shit, shit (f*ck 'em), for real
Shit, shit, yeah
How many times we gotta come do it? How many come bust they wig? (How many?)
[Chorus: Young Nudy]
How many of them live? How many of 'em made it home? Back to they kids (Not plenty)
This shit'll get real, this shit is for real (Uh-huh), you niggas don't play in the field (Don't do it)
You play with the fire, you better use it (Use it), don't pump-fake, and don't you abuse it (Nah)
Play with my brother, you know I get slime, I pull up and shoot 'em, I make sure they dyin'
They know that I'm ridin' (Yeah), they know I'm 4L, I'm slime for mine (4L)
Nigga, you tryin', you dyin' (You dyin'), disrespectin' the gang, you got to know, that shit like committin' a crime (Yeah), yeah
You got a warrant, now you is wanted, now we is on it (Uh-huh)
Killin' whoever, everybody steppers, no fake steppers, ain't nothin' phony (Nah)
[Verse 1: Young Nudy]
We get money 'round here, p*ssy nigga, so don't get this shit confused
Nigga be thinkin' we don't play with them tools, like how I'm playin' 'round with these blues
Nigga be steppin' on shit in the Loubs (Steppers, haha, rich steppers, rich shooters)
Can 12 get off my dick? No stoppin' (Yeah)
Hate when these f*ck niggas out here be watchin'
Call these niggas 12, they like detectives
Nigga be plottin' and watchin', it's extra
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Nigga be switchin' and bitchin', it's pressure
Nigga ain't shootin', ain't applyin' no pressure (Bitch)
f*ck wrong with 'em? They cannot stop me, they know I'm too extra (Nah)
Boy, you too broke and you talkin' 'bout pressure (You broke)
Got a new shooter, I'm ready to test you (Shooters, I got 'em), for real
Got so many, they do what I say so (Got so many they do what I say so), for real
Unknown shooter, I got him in ClayCo (Unknown shooter, I got him in, huh?), yeah
I got some niggas on the West (Yeah)
I got some shooters on the East, who the f*ck? Slime ain't runnin' these streets
[Chorus: Young Nudy & Key Glock]
How many of them live? How many of 'em made it home? Back to they kids (Not plenty)
This shit'll get real, this shit is for real (Uh-huh), you niggas don't play in the field (Don't do it)
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