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    Young Dro
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    What It Is

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    Song Info

    What It Is

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      About "What It Is"

      Lyrics for Young Dro - "What It Is"

      Young Dro, Young Dro

      Ladies and Gentlemen, this is a Jazze Phizzle production Young Drooo

      [Chorus:Repeat 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

      I'm in the air (come down)
      Ain't coming down (why?)
      Up here dammit (where?)
      Ain't coming down (please)
      Bubbilish coat, twenty six'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:Repeat x2]

      My car actually
      Willy Wonka factory
      Ice look like raspberry
      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:Repeat x2]

      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 twenty eight inches in the air
      What you scared for?

      [Chorus:Repeat x2]

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