Not Like Us (Remix) Lyrics – Yus Gz

Read the full Not Like Us (Remix) lyrics by Yus Gz along with the music video, song credits, release information and other details about the song.

[Intro]
Too much dead people (YBH)

[Verse 1]
Riding through the opps, I see who we smoke
Heat check, he don’t got his gun, I think his heat broke (N!gga broke)
Heat stroke, she don’t got no tongue, but she could deep throat
B!tch when I’m around, but you be walking ’round like Deebo (Deebo, b!tch)
Like, what’s up with all these new n!ggas steady watching my pockets? (Why they watching?)
Just beat his ass and got him crying out for his mama
He keep bragging ’bout that lil’ stupid b!tch, now she finna pop it (Hell nah)
She was outside eating d!ck like she going shopping
Beat on his head, spit on his grave, I know God watching (Come here, gone)
Sometimes you gotta run down and show n!ggas (Run down)
Nazzy in heaven, blew off his face and his shoulders (Where he going?)
Walk him down, I knew he was a b!tch, it left a hole in him (Left a hole)
Blowing him, six feet deep, bury his bro and him (Goddamn)
Dougie B (Hold on), I heard you like ’em young (Like ’em young)
Better not ever come to 141 (Huh, hell nein)
Heard that girl you talked to, ain’t y’all in love? (Y’all in love?)
Just know you better hide your little sister from him (The fu*k?)
Spot an opp up on the block, we roll the window down (Window down)
I have my own s*it, b!tch, this ain’t no rental now (This ain’t no rental)
He ain’t sliding or providing, why is he around? (Rrah)
Thought you was a Gunna (Grrah), boy, now you ain’t no Gunna now
Baow, baow, baow, baow, baow, Edot fu*king up
Baow, baow, baow, baow, baow, Notti Bop ’em up (‘Em up)
He keep running like a b!tch, ain’t you tired? (Tired)
* * *, you a rat and you probably wearing wires (Haha)

[Bridge]
Ha

[Verse 2]
Ff-ff-ff, okay, bet they won’t run (Don’t run)
Leave one, two, three, four, five n!ggas done (Rrah, rraow)
“Baow, baow, baow,” that’s the sound of my gun (Baow, baow)

B!tch, b!tch, I ain’t one of them ones (One of them ones)
I’m a certified Gunna and I’m screaming, “Free Doug” (Like, free Doug)
I will never “Yes, ma’am” to the judge (Hell nah)
If we locked in, it ain’t no one-on-ones