Young Jordan – Free Slatt lyrics

[Intro: Young Jordan] Slatt shit, pop shit Slatt, slatt, oh [Verse 1: Young Jordan] I told 'em folks free my brother Real nigga ride with a cutter Pull up with the heat like it's summer Made that boy cry to his mother I told my bros I love 'em If we see the opps we say fuck 'em If we see the law we gon' duck 'em In the Maybach with king Thugger Better tell your niggas stay humble He was trappin' out the jungle Stackin' them racks and them hundreds The shit that they do, he done done it [Chorus: Young Jordan] If you want it, better run it This shit that we do for the money Droppin' the roof in the summer Ride Bentley coupes when we wanna Really made it out the gutter And if you want beef we like what's up? Got that boy prayin' for good luck I need more cash than a Brinks truck [Verse 2: Young Jordan] We got that bag now, pullin' up paper tags now Hoppin' out of the Jags now, million reasons to brag now Pull up in a new two seater, I dropped a bag on my reefer Bitch I go fast like a cheetah, I got Supreme on my beater Revenge with the storm like Katrina, lil bitch I'm sharp like a needle I'm a rockstar like The Beatles, I'm a real slime, yeah I mean it All this ice, it got me freezing, now I'm up, I can't believe it I told that bitch I don't need it, I want the bills like I'm Lincoln I'm tryna get my bro out the penno, we gon' pick you up in that Benzo Boogers still drippin' in Kenzo, I put that bitch in the friendzone I'm tryna core like the endzone, slime shit, you get the memo Gucci belt strapped like a Pinto, I'm givin' you game fuck a demo [Chorus: Young Jordan] If you want it, better run it This shit that we do for the money Droppin' the roof in the summer Ride Bentley coupes when we wanna Really made it out the gutter And if you want beef we like what's up? Got that boy prayin' for good luck I need more cash than a Brinks truck [Verse 3: Gunna] I need that cash in four reasons I count up that cash and get lean I get in my bag every day I got Cuban links up to my face That's a four in that cream, I can taste I pour Act then I start to get lazy Go see ma in the hood with that K Now I'm starting to see I got fame Gunna Gunna, I drip, leave a stain Went to Icebox and Elliante YSL, ain't no cap in our game Go to hell, you still in our way Went through hell and called it a phase Gold on my Rolls, in separate chains Still rock Vlone, I feel Bari's pain Thug got the Bentley truck Yeah, I'm coppin' the Bentley coupe Swerve, got paid to move out the zoo Splurge, it's nothin' else left to do We shoot out with any crew I see the cash coming like deja vu Wear an S on my hat when I'm missin' Troup Got your back, watch the front, we can never lose Adding shit, adding shit, adding shit out On addy and molly, ain't coming down I dress my new condo and bop it out They love the new spot, let 'em switch it out I stopped checking tags, just cop it now Every week it's a show in and out of town I ain't trade all my ties, swear I love the South Rollies, AP's, and Pateks, we bust 'em down Disrespect my snakes, I gotta ride Twistin' slime, we say slatt 'til we fuckin' die Slatt, my gon' abide by Lie in the court, I can't testify Blue hundreds, yeah I'm still colorblind Say nothin', it's gon' be a homicide I'ma go free my slime, we ain't doin' time Only us, ain't no love for the other side [Chorus: Young Jordan] If you want it, better run it This shit that we do for the money Droppin' the roof in the summer Ride Bentley coupes when we wanna Really made it out the gutter And if you want beef we like what's up? Got that boy prayin' for good luck I need more cash than a Brinks truck Explain Request ×

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