He A Dreadhead My Bro Leave Him Dead Lyrics

He A Dreadhead My Bro Leave Him Dead Lyrics sung by NBA YoungBoy represents the English Music Ensemble. The name of the song is Bad Morning.

He A Dread Head My Bro Leave Him Dead Lyrics

(I need to speak to Mike Laury)
(Yeah, you got Mike Laury)
(Dubba-AA flex)
(Winning lottery numbers coming up)

[Chorus]
I can’t quit at all, at all
I ain’t hurt (I ain’t hurt, ni^^a) at all, at all
On my soul, at all, at all
Stay the same as my pain grow, ridin’ ’round with my bros (This is the sound)

[Post-Chorus]
Ridin’ in the Maybach, let’s go
Ten M’s up, ni^^a, let’s go
He a dreadhead, mhm, my bro leave him dead in front that store
On three different drugs tryna take away my pain, but it’s still gon’ flow
Try my hardest to put a smile on top my mans, but he still can’t cope

[Verse 1]
On the highway, out the window, do somethin’
Need it my way, bam, bam, shoot somethin’
He a head hunter rude boy, trust nothin’
She got a nice round bum, but can’t pay her nothin’
Do a hit real sick, it be cold the wholе summer
I can’t figure how she comin’, I’ma givе her to my mama
Any minute, I’ma cut a ni^^a, knowin’ I’ma slime him
Everything goin’ bad, you can trust him, still time him
ni^^as steady reppin’, we be shootin’ at the bi^^h
Sound of the stick goin’ boom when it hit
Sound of the smoke, real loud when it’s lit
Still let it off with a crowd in the midst
Black card, matte stick, I’m it
Don’t pick die if you try one trick
Right gang, but she say, “Wrong bi^^h”
Young rich ni^^a, he done took the wrong fix
Overdose, can’t shake back, no
Harbor freight, get the jack from the store
White trace, that’s a whole lotta snow
Ridin’ bumpin’ Kirk with a .30 and a pole
With a young bi^^h, she don’t want me, it’s vivid
But I don’t need her hand when I’m runnin’ up Benji’s
Real deal business, this real Blood business
Really spill those, dead bodies in the trenches
Real slime, that was my partner for a minute
Contract from my brother when them hollows got up in it
Dodgin’ bullets in the car when them shottas sent them in it
All praise to Allah, one was dead in less than sixty
We gon’ burn them forensics, leave ’em dead if he miss it
Should have aimed when you shot it, don’t f^^k with my bodies
I’ma foreign my engine, take luxury narcotics
Why they cookin’? I’m watchin’, die protectin’ that body
Through the house, the aroma, it cover the closet
I don’t say that ain’t it, but I still wan’ cop it
I’ma flood out this bi^^h to whoever come cop it
Police ran in this bi^^h, no one say nothin’ about it
I ain’t got nothin’ I wanna do better with my life, but take narcotics with my life
Collect these bodies with your life, send it to the Most Highest
ni^^a showin’ off, got it took when he got it
ni^^a ran off, tell me what you doin’ ’bout it?
You don’t know off the dome sh^t, can’t write
With the Glock when you see the kid, on sight
Bullets started playin’ ’round with tension, got focused
Got another pack rolled up, he gon’ smoke it
Ten grand, twenty grand, all night scope
We’re up all day high, we’re up all day slow

[Chorus]
I can’t quit at all, at all
I ain’t hurt at all, at all
On my soul, at all, at all
Stay the same as my pain grow, ridin’ ’round with my bros

[Post-Chorus]
Ridin’ in the Maybach, let’s go
Ten M’s up, ni^^a, let’s go
He a dreadhead, mhm, my bro leave him dead in front that store
On three different drugs tryna take away my pain, but it’s still gon’ flow
Try my hardest to put a smile on top my mans, but he still can’t cope

[Verse 2]
Herm steady talkin’ ’bout, “Top, just let me shoot him,” no
I can’t teach a ni^^a sh^t, I can make it out him
I ain’t need no tutor, been advanced for the road
Doped up, two or three tools, doin’ shows
Forty on my teeth and two hundred for my pole
Three hundred for my car, extra sneeze for the nose
I be runnin’ to the money soon as it reach my phone
I ain’t got nothin’ I wanna do better with my life, but take narcotics with my life
Collect these bodies with your life, send it to the Most Highest
ni^^a showin’ off, got it took when he got it
ni^^a ran off, tell me what you doin’ ’bout it?
You don’t know off the dome sh^t, can’t write
With the Glock when you see the kid, on sight

[Chorus]
I can’t quit (Quit) at all, at all
I ain’t hurt (I ain’t hurt) at all, at all
On my soul, at all, at all
Stay the same as my pain grow, ridin’ ’round with my bros

[Post-Chorus]
Ridin’ in the Maybach, let’s go
Ten M’s up, ni^^a, let’s go
He a dreadhead, mhm, my bro leave him dead in front that store (This is the sound)
On three different drugs tryna take away my pain, but it’s still gon’ flow
Try my hardest to put a smile on top my mans, but he still can’t cope

Video Song

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