Articoli

Recensioni

Concerti

Testi | Testi YFG FATSO | Mental - Single

Testo Mental - YFG FATSO

Testo della canzone Mental (YFG FATSO), tratta dall'album Mental - Single

Hey there, boy

Can't see myself bein' no flunky

Yeah, I dropped outta school but I was the smartest

I ain't no fuckin' dummy I'm godly, I ain't no fuckin' junkie

Got out on that road money on for soul shit

Over a hundred, we reap it, so we be over dumpin'

We catch a diss and bust a muscle

Yeah, when Drake got that first place, I was catchin' faces

I knew I could get my hundred

These niggas don't know where to start

I had the shit I did, I ain't goin' for nothin'

And I'm a fresh 18

So what that mean, since eight been high and runnin'

Now my mans start seein' it come up

Ten years old, I'm out here hustlin'

11, I got my shit with Mack

For two years, we out here thumpin'

I can't forget D-Man, uncle was out with us in Vans

We ran when this shit bust

At 13, I got booked

And Mack got booked, that shit two different subs

And I been in town for eight months straight

Mack got 30 years for nothin'

Was younger, was younger, dumb, ain't know shit

14, I drunk blood, I loved it

15, we got guns like loadouts

Pull you around, we grabbin' nuggets

Do or die, that changed the way shit was

Now we back trustin' nothin'

No one close, they blockin' bumpers

Posted up, caught tryna slide, we flushed

Sneak dissin', no way, we sent hundreds

First loss, we took that shit

Drain us, but it trained us

Boys be tough, it ain't no sin

Bad, we too angry

We rage and we get some of them

Sent out sad for days when we get caught

'Cause we got loads with money, hoes and shit

Can't trust no bunnies

Black chop, they all fully comin'

I got real respect, don't touch me

Rub me wrong, I'm mad and huffin'

Ain't no ties without somebody dyin'

This shit too real to budge

Watch the lies, they dress up all the time

We keep the graves floodin'

My sister died, if you had yours

We gon' go kill a cousin

This shit got my blood rushin'

Fucked up, now my mind runnin'

I can't calm myself for nothin'

This shit got me hot, I'm stuntin'

Each opp, we gon' drop a hundred

Make them bitches feel this thunder

Drake run, now we kill with buttons

Anyways, I got many ways to keep myself paid

Niggas bitches more soft than women

Talkin' 'bout how he self-made

Niggas ain't got self-control

Or self-respect, that shit the same

They fuck the same, business too lame

They spend they paper on shit for brain

It sound like I'm hatin' on they game

I get no fucks, got my own lane

I did this shit for years

Got my smarts from all that fuckin' pain

I got my heart from all this war

I got my spark pickin' up games

Once you yell that shit out

Yell and bust a bug, it ain't no change

You worry 'bout my business, I'm here you on the wrong thing

You worry 'bout how much I be getting you're on the wrong thing

I don't care how they spend they bread

It's they choice if they swing

I just keep mine right in they mind

Make sure we maintain

Niggas start rich but die without a thing

If we startin' shit, we close out with a bang

I keep this bitch close like a limb

I know the shit I stand

And I know the shit I started

Bodies fallin', I brought rain

Niggas start rich but die without a thing

If we startin' shit, we close out with a bang

I keep this bitch close like a limb

I know the shit I stand

And I know the shit I started

Bodies fallin', I brought rain

Niggas start rich but die without a thing

If we startin' shit, we close out with a bang

I keep this bitch close like a limb

I know the shit I stand

And I know the shit I started

Bodies fallin', I brought rain

Can't see myself bein' no flunky

Yeah, I dropped outta school but I was the smartest

I ain't no fuckin' dummy I'm godly, I ain't no fuckin' junkie

Got out on that road money on for soul shit

Had me overhuntin', we reap it, so we be over dumpin'

We catch a diss and bust a muscle

Yeah, when Drake got that first place, I was catchin' faces

I knew I could get my hundred

These niggas won't know where to start

I had the shit I did

I ain't goin' for nothin'

And I'm a fresh 18

So what that mean, since eight been high and runnin'

Now my mans start seein' it come up

Ten years old, I'm out here hustlin'

Credits
Writer(s): Richard Stevenson, Alfredo Cervantes, Francesco Basato, Paolo Voce, Christopher Mosley Jr.
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link

Disclaimer: i testi sono forniti da Musixmatch.
Per richieste di variazioni o rimozioni è possibile contattare direttamente Musixmatch nel caso tu sia un artista o un publisher.

Testi di YFG FATSO

Elenco artisti

a
b
c
d
e
f
g
h
i
j
k
l
m
n
o
p
q
r
s
t
u
v
w
x
y
z

© 2026 Riproduzione riservata. Rockol.com S.r.l.
Policy uso immagini

Rockol

Utilizza solo immagini e fotografie rese disponibili a fini promozionali (“for press use”) da case discografiche, agenti di artisti e uffici stampa.
Usa le immagini per finalità di critica ed esercizio del diritto di cronaca, in modalità degradata conforme alle prescrizioni della legge sul diritto d'autore, utilizzate ad esclusivo corredo dei propri contenuti informativi.
Accetta solo fotografie non esclusive, destinate a utilizzo su testate e, in generale, quelle libere da diritti.
Pubblica immagini fotografiche dal vivo concesse in utilizzo da fotografi dei quali viene riportato il copyright.
È disponibile a corrispondere all'avente diritto un equo compenso in caso di pubblicazione di fotografie il cui autore sia, all'atto della pubblicazione, ignoto.

Segnalazioni

Vogliate segnalarci immediatamente la eventuali presenza di immagini non rientranti nelle fattispecie di cui sopra, per una nostra rapida valutazione e, ove confermato l’improprio utilizzo, per una immediata rimozione.