17 Wit A 38 (with Chief Keef)

Intro: IDK:

This that dirty stinkin' nasty ratchet rowdy sh!t

Chorus: IDK:

Young n!gga wit a .38 (young n!gga wit a .38)

Young n!gga wit a .38 (young n!gga wit a .38)

17 with the .38 (17 with the .38)

I was 17 with the .38 (17 with the .38)

Verse 1: IDK:

I was only 17 when I had that 38 (8-8-8-8)

I was trying to prove something

Show 'em that I didn't play (play play play play)

If a n!gga do me wrong

Make him see the pearly gates (bang bang bang bang)

Truth is, I ain't shoot sh!t, it was just for fake

Truth is, I ain't do sh!t but rob white folk

Lure they ass to a place I know

Take they money, take they phone, there it goes

Sell the sh!t at my school for the low

Stack the money, stack the money, buy shoes

Stack the money, stack the money, buy clothes

Taking penitentiary risks, all for

Ed Hardy belts with the rhinestone

Hit the Georgetown (swerve) I got whores now (swerve)

Polo wasn't Ralph (word) it's a horse now

Slow down, slow down's what my mama said

She couldn't get that sh!t through my head

You can't expect me to give respect

When I would fvck b!tches on mama bed

Chorus: IDK & Chief Keef:

Young n!gga wit a .38 (young n!gga wit a .38)

Young n!gga wit a .38 (young n!gga wit a .38)

17 with the .38 (17 with the .38)

I was 17 with the .38 (17 with the--)

Sosa baby

Verse 2: Chief Keef:

I was 17 with a .357

Foot heavy, can't speed the limit

All black, Ghost Rider, I'm creeping in it

Gotta be a real n!gga, don't be pretending

If I'm in it then you know it got reefer in it

You don't see it n!gga? I can re-present it

Took a b!tch life, and I'll re-invent it

Can't leave without peeing in it

Pants saggin' but this belt ain't cheap, ayy ayy

Got a swiper on me, nothin' ain't free, ayy ayy

Would've bought the sh!t but it ain't me, ayy ayy

Yeah, you down n!gga but it ain't steep, ayy ayy

In this Humvee, me and the pack

Throwing shells even if you can't catch it

We gon test him even if he can't pass it

I know you sending what we can't pass, ayy ayy

Little woadie run the bus, bust the ****, make it puss

What's in me? It ain't trust, it ain't gang, it ain't fuss

Surf the wave now it's brush, you ain't got a nice function

Know I'll run it up like she know Fredo in the cut

Enough gears for some years, leave a b!tch with a tear

Leave a b!tch for a year, leave a b!tch in a mirror

Send it, you got it, I don't see it as an error

May storm in the club, interfering with the weather

Chorus: IDK:

Young n!gga wit a .38 (young n!gga wit a .38)

Young n!gga wit a .38 (young n!gga wit a .38)

17 with the .38 (17 with the .38)

I was 17 with the .38 (17 with the .38)