Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Y’all Ain’t Ready’ by 2 Chainz. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of 2 Chainz or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
Mike WiLL Made-It
Ear Drummers
Automatic weapons and Giuseppe’s
Automatic weapons and Giuseppe’s
Automatic weapons and Giuseppe’s (y’all ain’t ready)
Automatic weapons and Giuseppe’s (y’all ain’t ready)
Five pack, ten pack, twenty pack (twenty packs)
Thirty pack, forty pack, fifty pack (fifty packs)
Known to make a meal straight off from scratch
I can pull your girl with my hand tied behind my back
Flipping packs, I’m a silver-back, ain’t no monkey shit
Go just rolled up a joint, that last 40 minutes
Andale, ain’t no bullshit, this that real life
When Puerto Rican Johnny left, it didn’t feel right
I come from straight from the trenches
You know my spurt off the hinges
When you come through we don’t talk to you
Everyone know that you snitchin’
This is a different dimension
Whatever I want get attention
My partner stay with the pistols
Them pistols came with extensions
I done got my hustle in the trap (in the trap)
I done start bustin’ in the trap (in the trap)
I got head in the trap (in the trap)
I done got my bread in the trap (in the trap)
Automatic weapons and Giuseppe’s (y’all ain’t ready)
Automatic weapons and Giuseppe’s
Automatic weapons and Giuseppe’s (y’all ain’t ready)
Automatic weapons and Giuseppe’s
Five pack, ten pack, twenty pack (twenty packs)
Thirty pack, forty pack, fifty pack (fifty packs)
I can make a meal up straight from scratch
I can take your girl with my hand tied behind my back
Rap shit, trap shit, recorded this, sorta did it
All my 16’s crackin’, you gon’ need soda with it
Big boulder on my pinky, get oral sex off a winky
Took so much designer shit on a cruise, the boat started sinkin’
Well, hit her with the D, now she hooked like Phonics
Chopper by the high heels in the damn closet
Baby mama got a damn whole bunch of bags
She know her baby daddy got a whole bunch of mags (y’all ain’t ready)
Valentino, Saint Laurent, Dolce, Gabbana
Giuseppe shoes, Jimmy Choos, and damn red bottoms
Got a .38 in my damn Nike box
Put the F&N by my damn wifey’s socks
Ain’t no competition, I’ll be damned I’mma stop (y’all ain’t ready)
Do I talk to lames, I say damn, I do not
Automatic weapons get to sprayin’ out the car
Brand new fuckin’ necklace like I’m payin’ for a car (uh)
Automatic weapons and Giuseppe’s
Automatic weapons and Giuseppe’s
Automatic weapons and Giuseppe’s (y’all ain’t ready)
Automatic weapons and Giuseppe’s (y’all ain’t ready, y’all ain’t ready)
Talking ’bout competition, ain’t no competition (y’all ain’t ready)
Talking ’bout competition, ain’t no competition (y’all ain’t ready, y’all ain’t ready)
I’m in the magazine you can get your issue
Pull up on your scene with a thousand pistols
(F*ck is my ransom, homie?)