J.R. Writer Why Try Feat Sas Lyrics

Mega: talking]
You know, yeah SAS, Streets All Salute
J.R. Writer Dutchbeatz yeah we the BG's

[Mega:]
I been patient fam' stuck in this crazy land
Where men will lick your head off your shoulders so they can make a grand
No snitchin, naw I'm bout to take a stand
My trumpet get the spittin you thinkin it's finna make the band
No safety, blow like it's A.C.
Call me bird's eye you heard why I make P's
I'm about my wealth
So I need a range rover that named after a book that's about myself
And it's over dosha, when I flip and put the razors to your face
I ain't talkin bout a Motorola
Big claims know you won't clap back at us
I have your whole strip runnin like they tryin to catch a bus
Oh you sellin drugs you can get your melon slugged
Then get swept off of your feet like you fell in love
I can fight but the guns preferred
We them Dipset thunder birds now watch we rain on them

[Chorus x2: Mega]
Why try, you're gon' die I
Pull up in a drop with the pistol c___ed
When I pop I'm waving bye-bye
You don't drive by, all you is drive by
They call Byrd Gang you heard fam'
We fly high

[J.R. Writer:]
Okay, Writer
My my I'm sky high the fly guy
Pull up to your b____ escape with a whip from s___e I'm talking sci-fi
Why try to out do me I doubt truly
Cause J's an ape so stay in your place I ain't never been a slouch s_____
Listen you not as sharp I'm getting the gwope to start
You ain't seen bigger m's since the McDonalds arc
These gangstas Pac at heart in front of your b____
To turn and look like what who you comin with miss
You my son get the drift
So right now I be dissin myself, if I called you a son of a b____
Give it up for the dips, cause it seem so simple
Yet I'm "So Sick" like a Ne-yo single
I will blast them, leave them I a casket box
Sleepin with the saddest 'ock for leapin like an astronaut
I keep the tech sucka
So I don't care if your pops marry my mother
How dare you step brother