A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

Tay 600

"Let Y’all Hate ft. TaySav"

[Chorus]
Ayy, b*tch I'm fresh off the block
And I'm fresh out the spot
Pockets fresh out the box
Folks just bought a brand new coupe and that b*tch fresh off the lot
And ain't no n*ggas out here like me they done ran at a stop
And b*tch I'm balling, just like Spaulding
And I'm balling, win the ballgame
b*tch I'm saucing, in these Balmains
We do our thing, and let y'all hate

[Verse 1: Tay 600]
On his ass, on his ass, on his ass
My shorty walk right up on his ass
I'm .223 and they smoke his ass
We could've been get that goofy in traffic but trust me my hitters gon' run his ass
Boy I don't gotta go get it I got it you flexing my youngin' go poke his ass
Hop in the straight and I do the dash
We shoot your window until you crash
Talk like you first but you knew you last
Kick that b*tch out ain't no kissing that
Better get low when that blicka blast
Stick on my lap ain't no in the stash
Ain't got no wifey I hit and pass
n*gga you covered just get her bags
Slide up on him with a stick out
Catch his ass with his di*k out
TEC came with a beam on it
For a n*gga with a big mouth
Don't hide at your b*tch house
We gon' make you get kicked out
Come to go and shoot sh*t down
f*ck n*gga better switch routes
Ayy, I remember he went out
Ayy, I'mma buy momma a big house
Ayy, goofy b*tch better sit down
Ayy, ask around I'm the sh*t now

[Chorus]
Ayy, b*tch I'm fresh off the block
And I'm fresh out the spot
Pockets fresh out the box
Folks just bought a brand new coupe and that b*tch fresh off the lot
And ain't no n*ggas out here like me they done ran at a stop
And b*tch I'm balling, just like Spaulding
And I'm balling, win the ballgame
b*tch I'm saucing, in these Balmains
We do our thing, and let y'all hate

[Verse 2: TaySav]
Gang, gang
I'm a young n*gga be flexing and sh*t
They used to warn me I flex on that b*tch now she all on my di*k like a pest in this b*tch
A n*gga ain't give me a dime but they all tryna hate cause I run up a check in this b*tch
I come to your party with Lucci and 30's and .50s so cleanup and left in this b*tch
We bossed up, approach with caution
Money on your head, call it a auction
And this a foreign, ain't got no aux chord
A n*gga boring, she say I'm sauced up
I used to post right up on the block
Big .223 like it's f*ck a Glock
And my n*ggas know I don't f*ck with cops
Your man's in my wood b*tch it's f*ck a opp
These n*ggas don't know when to f*cking stop til I come through let it rock at your f*cking top
Your b*tch at my crib blowing heat she just blew out my brains cause your b*tch is a f*cking thot and
Ayy, I be on Morse with the 'Sanes we be on it
Gang, if you ride down my block then my clip is unloading
Ayy, if you ain't DOA then the clip is reloading
Gang, I got 30+ shots I'mma let your ass hold it

[Chorus]
Ayy, b*tch I'm fresh off the block
And I'm fresh out the spot
Pockets fresh out the box
Folks just bought a brand new coupe and that b*tch fresh off the lot
And ain't no n*ggas out here like me they done ran at a stop
And b*tch I'm balling, just like Spaulding
And I'm balling, win the ballgame
b*tch I'm saucing, in these Balmains
We do our thing, and let y'all hate

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


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