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Pot Roast
Young Nudy
Pot Roast (feat. Key Glock) video

YOUNG NUDY


Pot Roast Lyrics (feat. Key Glock)

[Intro: Young Nudy]
(Yo, Pi'erre, you wanna come out here?)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, kill that motherf*cker talkin' shit, y'all know what I'm sayin'? For real
Haters are motivators (Shit, shit), get some motherf*cker paper
Shit, shit (f*ck 'em), for real
Shit, shit, yeah
How many times we gotta come do it? How many come bust they wig? (How many?)

[Chorus: Young Nudy]
How many of them live? How many of 'em made it home? Back to they kids (Not plenty)
This shit'll get real, this shit is for real (Uh-huh), you niggas don't play in the field (Don't do it)
You play with the fire, you better use it (Use it), don't pump-fake, and don't you abuse it (Nah)
Play with my brother, you know I get slime, I pull up and shoot 'em, I make sure they dyin'
They know that I'm ridin' (Yeah), they know I'm 4L, I'm slime for mine (4L)
Nigga, you tryin', you dyin' (You dyin'), disrespectin' the gang, you got to know, that shit like committin' a crime (Yeah), yeah
You got a warrant, now you is wanted, now we is on it (Uh-huh)
Killin' whoever, everybody steppers, no fake steppers, ain't nothin' phony (Nah)
[Verse 1: Young Nudy]
We get money 'round here, p*ssy nigga, so don't get this shit confused
Nigga be thinkin' we don't play with them tools, like how I'm playin' 'round with these blues
Nigga be steppin' on shit in the Loubs (Steppers, haha, rich steppers, rich shooters)
Can 12 get off my dick? No stoppin' (Yeah)
Hate when these f*ck niggas out here be watchin'
Call these niggas 12, they like detectives
Nigga be plottin' and watchin', it's extra
Nigga be switchin' and bitchin', it's pressure
Nigga ain't shootin', ain't applyin' no pressure (Bitch)
f*ck wrong with 'em? They cannot stop me, they know I'm too extra (Nah)
Boy, you too broke and you talkin' 'bout pressure (You broke)
Got a new shooter, I'm ready to test you (Shooters, I got 'em), for real
Got so many, they do what I say so (Got so many they do what I say so), for real
Unknown shooter, I got him in ClayCo (Unknown shooter, I got him in, huh?), yeah
I got some niggas on the West (Yeah)
I got some shooters on the East, who the f*ck? Slime ain't runnin' these streets

[Chorus: Young Nudy & Key Glock]
How many of them live? How many of 'em made it home? Back to they kids (Not plenty)
This shit'll get real, this shit is for real (Uh-huh), you niggas don't play in the field (Don't do it)
You play with the fire, you better use it (Use it), don't pump-fake, and don't you abuse it (Nah)
Play with my brother, you know I get slime, I pull up and shoot 'em, I make sure they dyin'
They know that I'm ridin' (Yeah), they know I'm 4L, I'm slime for mine (4L)
Nigga, you tryin', you dyin' (You dyin'), disrespectin' the gang, you got to know, that shit like committin' a crime (Yeah), yeah
You got a warrant, now you is wanted, now we is on it (Uh-huh)
Killin' whoever, everybody steppers (Everybody steppers), no fake steppers, ain't nothin' phony (Nah, nah)
[Verse 2: Key Glock]
Real deal Holyfield, niggas bologna (Yeah)
They call me Glock, you can get it, you want it (Fah, bah, bah)
Yeah, I keep it on me, show me my opponent (Bitch, what's up? Uh)
Short lil' thick bitch, My Little Pony (Yeah)
She tryna ride this thing like Coney Island, if I'm drivin' in it, I own it (Yeah, I own that bitch, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
These rap niggas Jabronies, they cappin' and lyin' up on they dead homies
They cappin' and lyin' 'bout everything they do (They do)
I dare you to reach for these jewels (Jewels)
I pop your ass just like a pimple (Bah, bah)
I make the situation cool (Cool) down
Then turn around and spin 'em, yeah (Bah, bah)
Shrimp ass niggas, I grill 'em (Grill 'em)
I don't play by no rules
Hell nah, these racks won't bend up (Bend up)
Hell yeah, these hoes gon' choose (Choose)
Hell yeah, I keep that tool (Tool)
Hell nah, can't go like that (Like that)
No lackin', I can't snooze (Can't snooze)
Ayy, ask yourself this question

[Chorus: Young Nudy & Key Glock]
How many of them live? How many of 'em made it home? Back to they kids (Not plenty, back to they kids, huh)
This shit'll get real, this shit is for real (Uh-huh), you niggas don't play in the field (Don't do it, nah)
You play with the fire, you better use it (Use it), don't pump-fake, and don't you abuse it (Nah)
Play with my brother, you know I get slime, I pull up and shoot 'em, I make sure they dyin'
They know that I'm ridin' (Yeah), they know I'm 4L, I'm slime for mine (4L)
Nigga, you tryin', you dyin' (You dyin'), disrespectin' the gang, you got to know, that shit like committin' a crime (Yeah, yeah), yeah
You got a warrant, now you is wanted, now we is on it (Uh-huh)
Killin' whoever, everybody steppers, no fake steppers, ain't nothin' phony (Nah)

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these lyrics are submitted by gsba3
Songwriter(s): Young Nudy, Pierre Bourne, Key Glock
Record Label(s): 2023 Young Nudy, LLC, under exclusive licence to RCA Records
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