Píseň: What It Is

Interpret:
Young Dro
Album:
Best Thang Smokin'
Young Dro, Young Dro



[Girl:] Ladies and Gentlemen, this is a Jazze Phizzle production Young Drooo



[Chorus: x2]

Are you a killa? What it is

Hell Yeah, What it is

Drug dealer, what it is

Young player, ride tall

I just wanna sit up in the air

Get high, I just wanna be up in the air



[Verse:]

I'm in the air (come down)

Ain't comin down (why?)

Up here dammit (where?)

Ain't comin down (please)

Bubbelishous coat, 26's in the town

I'm a killa too,

Killin bitches in town

Chevy with the beat down

Make you spin around

Like a fishtail

I'm Fish scale

Ask the niggas on da ave

He the shit yeah

I don't tolerate

My Impala great

Bring the choppa out

Bet I discombobulate

I'm a tough nigga

You a fuck nigga

See me in the club all Prada'd up nigga

I got a semi too

My whole penny do

I got diamonds, urnge(orange) like Winnie Pooh

Gittin tolapia

And caviar for dinner too

Mafia as a mother fucka

Don't make me have to get at you

I throw a hundered shots

Nigga plus fifty-two



My car actually

Willy Wonka factory

Ice look like rasberry

It'd be hard to try and tackle me

Nigga I'm a killa i suggest you don't come after me

Bitch I'll be in Collipark

Plus I'll on Mcafee

Bankhead faculty

Boy you need to rap with me

Come and talk to me

Before I open up your cavity

Shots come rapidly

I told you not to mess with me

I don't play with little boys

You tryin to Michael Jackson me?

Know a nigga ridin the air fantastically

Til the day they kill us

Never put my rims up

Actually, car flop purple when the sun come

When it get dark

Boy that thang be lookin drum plum



Mink coat

Shit polar bear

Hoes over here

Hoes over there

I'm bout to take flight

I'm goin in the air

Candy with the gloss

I'm about to lift it out

See somethin on me  on me you don't like

Then lick it off

We don't need to look at the time

We rip em off

My wrist forty

Forgot how much Tip costs

Buy a hundered k i don't wanna play

Young Dro ride tall on a summer day

Sellin dope, it'd be jumpin where my mama stay

Bad hoes get treated like runaways

Bitch you need to go home cool out and smoke a blunt a day

Gon say it folk my Cutlass look like egg yolk

You know I keep a tool with me all in the bed though

My money fed though

It's Grand Hustle bread folk

We sit 28 inches in the air

What you scared for?