Letra Back from the dead Yung Bleu

Back from the dead

Riding in the ghost, the hood know me well
This shit hard to find, this that holy grail
Court side, sit so close it's like we know the players
But I'm a player too, my jersey in the booth
Bitch I'm in my bag, Gucci puffer coat
Nigga I'm in my bag, I broke enough for us both
You fuckin' with the goat
Uh, fuck nigga
Ridin' in the Vette
Every time I hit the gas it make her pussy wet
How Yung Bleu got all them millions, he ain't went viral yet
No I won't be on TikTok, but I got Sierra Leone diamonds in this wristwatch
We did the impossible, told my niggas lock and load
We got drums in this bitch like rock and roll
AR bullets run through niggas lik? we run through obstacles
Fuck we fighting for, st?p on a nigga like a cockroach
I fuck with Mexicans from Mexico, they kill you vamanos
We jump off the Porsche Geronimo like "eenie miney moe"
I look over my shoulder more than a nigga drop the soap
Bitch you nasty, real nasty, nastier than guacamole
I'm so Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
See you pussies in the afterlife, we at your casket closin'
Home invasion, check the front door then see if the back is open
Be aware, don't be lackin' focus, they might crack it open

Racked up, money on your head, fuck nigga
I come alive
Straight back from the dead, fuck nigga
Are you scared, fuck nigga (And let the streets say amen)
(What you wanna do?)
Run this money up, run it
Run this money up, run it
Run this money up, run it
Run this money up, run it
Run this money up, run it
Run this money up, run it
Run this money up, run it
Run this money up, run it

This the intro nigga
He on the list so get his info pull a kick door nigga
How you gon' run beyond your ass just like a nympho nigga
New real estate, no you can't find this shit on Zillow nigga
I had the ups, couldn't even slide, he had his kiddos with him
New rental car, I copped it, my bitch named the windows tenant
Big Bleu, the big old menace
New magazine extendo on the Glock, it shoot like gasoline
We tryna rob everything, we ain't nothin' but a pack of thieves
I'm ridin' with a cold ass killer
These bitches be mad and bitter
They don't know about Jeremy Bitter
I came from rags to riches
Nigga I ain't scared to get you
I was in here with the roaches and the rats
I'm on [?] like a soldier in Iraq
[?] niggas all want an interaction
Mo' transactions
Fuck nigga I need mo' transactions

Racked up, money on your head, fuck nigga
I come alive
Straight back from the dead, fuck nigga
Are you scared, fuck nigga (And let the streets say amen)
(What you wanna do?)
Run this money up, run it
Run this money up, run it
Run this money up, run it
Run this money up, run it
Run this money up, run it
Run this money up, run it
Run this money up, run it
Run this money up, run it