Yung Redd & Lil Ron

Yung Redd & Lil Ron - 7-1-3 lyrics

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(feat. Gritboyz) 


Yeah 7-1-3 new South, Sucka Free 

In the trunk, we on your heels mayn 

Holla back, come on come on 

[Yung Redd:] 

Only if you knew, I'm playing by my own rules 

Keep a new pair of 22's, for the old school 

Neck full of rose gold, hoes spreading the news 

Even them days I was broke, I was paying dues 

A hundred miles and running, you couldn't fill my shoes 

I break bread with my niggaz, yeah that's what niggaz do 

These clowns plotting on me, got me looking in my rear 

Nothing but blood and shedding tears, through most of my years 

But anyway I showed and proved, to most of my peers 

Sooner or later, recognized me as a pioneer 

Who would of thought, that I'd be playing the right cards 

And more grain than a lawn, in your front yard 

Now you can tell, we all about them dollar bills y'all 

Plus I got 24 inches, on my wheels y'all 

Them niggaz playing mayn, I gotta keep it real y'all 

I'm on the grind, so I get it how I live y'all - 2x 

[Lil' Ron:] 

I'm money getting, while niggaz slipping they really tripping 

I'm on a mission, peep how I'm living them chicks is flipping 

Now pay attention and listen, the game ain't switching 

Did I mention if it's tension, then your lil' ass missing 

Stop depending on niggaz, and get your own cash 

I love spending that money quick, so I make it fast 

And it seems, some of these rap niggaz flow is trash 

But me, I'm leaving the bank with big money bags 

Don't try to snatch my shit, nigga I will blast 

Them hollow tips, got your ass stuck to the grass 

The spinners on the drop, look like they doing cart-wheels 

My money long, like I discovered the arch build 

[Hook: x3] 

I represent, that 7-1-3 nigga 


It's them hustler stacking, ghetto reality live from the H 

And the truth is, we got it on fire in the H 

So no problem, we don't mind taking your place 

We ain't come for the chump change, we came for the safe 

And hey, thrown in the field 

If you ain't never been in the real car, that wasn't going very far 

Or you just a stupid nigga, let them other dummies move with ya 

Cause y'all, ain't taking down Scoob' nigga 


I'm Grit-tastic, these hoes adore this 

I'm on point with my bucks, like TJ Ford g'eah 

You niggaz is worthless, got no purpose 

Might as well be a sideshow, and work for a circus ay 

I'm bout my fast money, ask around 

And if you ask bout my money, hit your ass with pounds clowns 

7-1-3, you ain't noticed 

Unique that bastard boy, I'm so focused 


Guess who's back in the mix, from the land where they package and ship 

Crack on the strips, we added to get the cabbage and split 

And for the cabbage, automatics'll rip 

Baggies to bits, by any means when we after the chips 

Fuck being average ships, you need power to play 

Whether you work a nine to five, or turn powder to yay 

Get out the way, that's how he put it down in the H 

We ride chrome, a inch for every hour of the day ay 

[Hook x3] 

Yeah-yeah, holla at me
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Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?


Language: English

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