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Genius English Translations - Yasin Workin English Translation Lyrics

[Intro]
Ah
It's Yasin, man
Stockholm don dada

[Verse 1]
YB stands for “Why be like them niggas?” I'm loco
I'm on my two-gun shit (Huh?)
Which YB? Call me the Two-Gun Kid (Pop-Pop)
If you say loyalty is priceless
You gotta pay the price where I live
I risked everything for my bro
And I know what I'm talking about, I can prove what I'm talking about
Fuck those who hate me, damn, I hate them
But I understand them, I dont get surprised
Of course people will hate when I dress in designer
From the head to the toes
You think that my pockets abusing anabolic
My Glock gets passed around the team like a ball in Barcelona (Ey)
Soon I will move out from this cave
Buy house in the county to drink wine and paint
I said to my friends who's left, “You can raise your glasses”

[Chorus]
I don't get any sleep, though, I'm workin'
(I jump in the studio, start mixing the stew)
I've fallen a couple of times, I'm hurtin'
(I drink to not confront my feelings)
I'm packing, Glock 30
(Pasta bolognese, I turn him into mince, pah)
Theres nothing to get here, nothing to get here
(You better stay in school, nigga)
Theres nothing to get here, nothing to get here
[Verse 2]
How many problems you got? A lot
I'm like 21 Savage
He was just out a month, he's savage
Me and the police, we don't speak the same language
She said she believes in God but she plays with demons
I walk with the same boys I played with in kindergarten
I offer my YG half a bag cocaine
If he could ride two stations and empty a mag
'Cause every day a nigga try to test me, ah
Prosecutor have nothing, we're clear
Where the sun never shines, we're like lanterns
You think someone has spilled paint on my pants
I just came out, my brother he took me to the store
He said to me, “Yasin, shine bright like a diamond”
(To all of you who thought I was gone forever)

[Chorus]
I don't get any sleep, though, I'm workin'
(I jump in the studio, start mixing the stew)
I've fallen a couple of times, I'm hurtin'
(I drink to not confront my feelings)
I'm packing, Glock 30
(Pasta bolognese, I turn him into mince, pah)
Theres nothing to get here, nothing to get here
(You better stay in school, nigga)
Theres nothing to get here, nothing to get here