Whitey Bulgar Lyrics – YoungBoy Never Broke Again

I need to talk to Mike Lowry

Hello (Thieves), this is Mike Lowry (Thieves)

Dubba-AA flex

I’m on these

Alright, I’m ready, I’m ready

Woo (Oh), I say murder (Oh, oh)

I say, I say they, yeah

They ain’t ever fucked with me, yeah

Them bitch-ass niggas was plain games full of jumpers

Just like these dog-ass hoes

Yeah, you already know how it go (This is the sound)

All of these new things are fit (These things are)

My murder calls (Yeah, my murder calls)

Those inside broke, take my middle fingers

Bitch, I ain’t home (I ain’t home)

Top tell y’all go step on shit (Step on shit)

Told her, “Case closed”

I say, “Put that belt on me, I cross five souls”

Jump one from my nine like I’m Whitey Bulger, yeah

Play ’round with that, man, we don’t ask or talk much

Don’t discriminate, kick that front door, I say, “Off ’em” (Said I give ’em knowledge)

I told my baba that they cannot fault him

Yeah, Channel Nine, this a murder for real

Swang that Draco and somebody get killed

Grave digger, yeah, they know what it is

They gon’ send me to that island, for real

Real nigga, he won’t stop if they hate

Real hitta, shoot that stick at your face

Pall bearer, I be raisin’ the rate

Red eye, it won’t be a fair chase

Gon’ die for the ride, even though that a life be a risk

In that front, ain’t no stoppin’, I’m up and I’m poppin’

A nigga might die in this bitch, might die

I know ten, ten, shh, fuck how wild it get

Brand new .223, it hold a whole hunnid

I sit here and put outside of that bitch

They ain’t playin’ chase, they be hidin’ from hits

Tell the meek, “You gon’ die, my friend”

Like I’m broke, start up slidin’ up in it

After doin’ the drill, change the firin’ pan

PTR with no hollows in it (I’ma bring the hurt style)

You a grave digger, you gon’ kill ’em after, we gon’ bury ’em dead

Society wanna join, he a straight killer, man

All of these new things are fit (These things are)

My murder calls (Yeah, my murder calls)

Those inside broke, take my middle fingers

Bitch, I ain’t home (I ain’t home)

Top tell y’all go step on shit (Step on shit)

Told her, “Case closed”

I say, “Put that belt on me, I cross five souls”

Jump one from my nine like I’m Whitey Bulger, yeah

Play ’round with that, man, we don’t ask or talk much

Don’t discriminate, kick that front door, I say, “Off ’em” (Said I give ’em knowledge)

I told my baba that they cannot fault him

Feelin’ a’ight, they ain’t fuckin’ with me

Mad mane leavin’ blood in the streets

Dawg, mane, came only for green

Put it up, we gon’ pray ‘fore we feast

At the club, search around for one chain

Uppin’ one click, more than one in my B

We ain’t hit a party, we just scopin’ the scene

Talkin’ soon as it end, we gon’ die when they leave

About playin’ with me

I got my five, fuck H.P.D.

I’m in that eye, I’ma shake the scene

I’m in that Nawf, ride where you not

Where you think there ain’t nothin’, where you prolly sleep

Runnin’ circles around everything, plan on catchin’ me

Still got no time for anomalies

Steady pickin’ out shit, who was sayin’ they gon’ step on me?

After the fact, they can’t even breathe

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Jump one from my nine like I’m Whitey Bulger, yeah

Play ’round with that, man, we don’t ask or talk much

Don’t discriminate, kick that front door, I say, “Off ’em” (Said I give ’em knowledge)

I told my baba that they cannot fault him

Oh, oh, oh, oh (This is the sound)

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh

Jump one from my nine like I’m Whitey Bulger, yeah

Play ’round with that, man, we don’t ask or talk much

Yeah, I say, “Off ’em”