YOUNG DRO LYRICS - What It Is

"What It Is"



Young Dro, Young Dro



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



[Chorus: x2]

Are you a killer? What it is

Oh Yeah, What it is

Drug dealer, what it is

Young player, riding's hard

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 coming down (why?)

Up here dammit (where?)

Ain't coming down (please)

Bubbilish coat, 26's in the town

I'm a killer too,

Killing bitches in town

Chevy with the beat down

Make you spin around

I could fishtail

Off Fishdale

Ask the niggas over there

If I'm the shit there

I don't tolerate

My impala grape

Bring the top out

Bet I discombobulate

I'm a tough nigga

You a fuck nigga

See me in the club all prodded up nigga

I got a semi too

My whole penny do

I got diamonds, earned like Winnie Pooh

Given talapia

And caviar for dinner too

Mafia as a mother fucker

Don't make me have to get at you

I throw a hundred shots

Plus fifty-two



[Chorus x2]



[Verse 2:]

My car actually

Willy wonka factory

Ice look like rasberry

These hoes tryna tackle me

Nigga I'm a killer 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 trying to Michael Jackson me?

Know a nigga ride in the air fantastically

Till their daddy kill somethin else

I put my rims up

Actually, car flop purple when the sun come

When it get dark that thing

It'll look Dro won



[Chorus x2]



[Verse 3:]

Mink coat

Shit polar bear

Hoes over here

Hoes over there

I'm about to take flight

I'm goin in the air

Candy with the gloss

I'm about to lift it off

Can't you see someone on me you don't like

And then lick it out

We don't need to look at a town

We rip em off

My wrist forty

Forget how much tip costs

Buy a hundred k I don't wanna play

Young Dro rides tall on a summer day

Selling dope, it be junkies where my mama's day

Bad hoes get treated like runaways

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

Go and say how my cutlass look like egg yolk

I keep two with me all in the bed though

My money fed though

It's Grand Hustle bread boy

We got 28 inches in the air

What you scared for?



[Chorus x2]