Swear On My Mama (Explicit) - Young Greatness

Lyricist：Theodore Jones/Armad Phillips

Composer：Theodore Jones/Armad Phillips

Producer：Haz Futcha

I need a cold street

2016 joint

You see the pipes on that motherf**ker

Got a hundred bands on the front seat

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I'm trying to kill this kill this

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I'm trying to kill this n**gas

I done grind all day to pay my light bill

These n**gas fake sippin lean they sippin Nyquil

I'm talking Rolly weste play j

Mr donne c**aine

Serving all the main mains

Got the streets on straight flames

My father died and now he let the pain go

My momma cried 'cause she ain't see the rainbow

I drive the Rolls and raines with the windows down

None of these n**gas will listen but they hear me now

This that trap or die sh*t I'm talking

Belli Reses

I ain't letting another slide am talking bird season

Where your curb at I'll put a foreign there

And the passenger I'll put a h** in there

And that n**ga that owe me some gone pay

And that n**ga that owe me some gone pay

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I'm trying to kill this kill this

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I'm trying to kill this n**gas

Deep in the ghetto I make them feel my pain

What you know about the on them long nights

What you know about that struggle sh*t that muscle sh*t

Trying to hit a lick and your best friend in a casket

And his momma crying they done kill her son on valentine

No sunshine gotta stay strapped like velcro

This that row for you f**k n**gas never trust n**gas

Let em empty out on your bus n**ga

I been on my hustle sh*t

You been looking like a criplet

First round your the draft pick

New orleans n**ga so flashy

Bawes cuiso with passion

Cut the coupe might crash it

My momma raised her a savage

Somebody please go and talk to these n**gas

Talk to these n**gas

'Cause they triipin' triipin'

I I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I'm trying to kill this kill this

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I swear on my mama

I'm trying to kill this n**gas