Young M.A – Bleed Lyrics

Bleed Lyrics by Young M.A.

[Intro]
Yeah, yeah, what happened, ayy

[Verse 1]
Four years later they still sleeping on me
And I ain’t gotta get the strap ’cause I still keep it on me
It’s crazy how I got a big d–k without a d–k, uh
It’s Young M.A. don’t ever let that name come out yo’ lips
I’m the big goon, I send my goonies to your crib and you can die inside your living room
If getting money mean you dumb then f–k it I been a fool
And I ain’t just go and get the food I built the kitchen too
I’d rather be inside some p—y than do this interview
Little gay n—a hoes been on me since middle school
Break up with a b—h by next week I won’t remember you
Just because I’m put it in don’t mean I’m into you
Into foreign countries with a foreing chick, foreing whip
Foreign food, foreign shoes, just a bunch of foreing s–t
N—-s wilding out and (?) you recording this
Put two hundred thousand on my balance just for talking s–t
F–k it up on tour and s–t, red handle done, importing s–t
It’s funny how haters throwing shots but they ain’t calling it
Uh, clear the way make some room please excuse
That’s a real n—a walking in

[Hook/Chorus – Young M.A]
Huh it’s M.A b—h
You got something on your mind then say that s–t “say that s–t”
We kingpins this is not a play pound
In other words we don’t play that s–t
M.A ’bout to drop, better play that s–t
Hoes love me man, them n—-s hate that s–t
They be like ooouuu, I hate that b—h
Ooouuu but ain’t they are broke, and ain’t I rich

[Verse 2 – Young M.A]
Ouuu, ouuu shake ’em off
N—-s wasn’t on their job, had to lay ’em off
Her n—a wasn’t on her job, had to break her off
Three words for these hoes, take it off
Ouuu, drop panties, no hands please, she don’t need plan Bs
She pop’ xannies, like it’s candy, that’s why she antsy
But she nasty, and I’m a thorough bread n—a with an attitude
It’s Young M.A, make sure that M.A is capital
Being broke is a joke that’s why I’m never in a laughing mood
Always got the trap clicking like they some talbot shoes
Get rich or die, I had to chose
Get rich or die trying, Curtis Jackson move
Bipolar, can’t control her, keep it true with me
Strike across my shoulder cause my mind is like a bag of screws

[Hook/Chorus – Young M.A]
Huh it’s M.A b—h
You got something on your mind then say that s–t “say that s–t”
We kingpins this is not a play pound
In other words we don’t play that s–t
M.A ’bout to drop, better play that s–t
Hoes love me man, them n—-s hate that s–t
They be like ooouuu, I hate that b—h
Ooouuu but ain’t they are broke, and ain’t I rich

[Verse 3 – Young M.A]
Flex, ooouuu heard the least
In this m———–g booth leave it third degrees
Cooking crack up in that stew I gotta serve the fiends
Hop in that Maybach tell the driver umm, (?)
Rich and filthy still rock silky red rose certainly
Black and blue, that gray one too, just copped that burgundy
I swear I try to chase my ways but it ain’t work for me
F–k a b—h ’cause currently my mood is currency
And I’m, sipping Hennessy, make sure it’s perfect please
I’m counting up, she said ‘How much?’ I said infinity
If I’m gon’ come for you they do not sent for me
‘Cause I will pop this brand new Glock and take her virginity “grr”
Uh, big pimping spending Gs
What I look like tricking on a b—h, that ain’t the s–t for me
Keep being my vicinity without abilities
All you haters suck my nuts and suck my dignity
Sheesh