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 #

Wheezy

"YES INDEED [MASH-UP]"

[Intro: Tyler, The Creator]
I might just add a verse for no reason, f*ck it
Ayo

[Verse: Tyler, The Creator]
I sit in my garden and play Stevie Wonder
And get foot massages while Clancy talk numbers
He threw me some game and I swear I won't fumble
Might cop me a Bronco to ride for the summer
Marni the trousers, tell Risso to holla
The carnival sell out, the stadium Dodger
Cut off some homies, but Taco my brodie
Until he score millions, I won't leave the goalie
Pass 'em the mittens, he never betrayed me
The E30 sitting, the LT my daily
The engine is stupid, I drive like a tutor
When I move, it moves, the transmission like Luda
Ketchup like packets, my new n*gga pretty
Your new b*tch is tacky like Busta Rhymes jackets
Want smoke? I can match it, that second-hand action
We exhale you inhale and asthma attack
Teeing off, n*ggas nauseous as f*ck
f*ck you thought? b*tch, it's GOLF

[Chorus: Lil Baby]
Brand new whip got no keys
Tailor my clothes, no starch, please
Soon as I nut, you can gon' leave
Got M's in the bank, like: "Yes, indeed"

[Verse Outro: Tyler, The Creator]
This sh*t going crazy, I swear I go crazy
I never met him but man shout out Lil Baby
We running the thing *gibberish* I just ran out of words

[Verse 2: Juice WRLD]
Cool, run up on me then you catchin' a funeral
I scratch it off write it in Roman numerals
I f*cked that b*tch in the back and I swear that I never loved her I just want to hit her
I f*cked that b*tch now I'm hitting her sister
Run up on me you get spin like a twister
Told you before I don't f*ck with these n*ggas
I got my hand on on my hand on my trigger
Imma go get 'em, she on my di*k hoppin', I'm callin' her tigger
I tell her "go figure"
She [?], I’m talkin Hilfiger
Tommy on me, I ain't talking Hilfiger
That b*tch a gun
Run up on me, I got heat like the sun
Count up to 2 cause I am not the 1, uh
Better locked up, Akon
All my other n*ggas they gone
R.I.P to all they souls, condolences to all they moms, uh
That’s just how it is
I’m in the bank, makin’ it flip, talkin’ that sh*t
I hit yo b*tch just like a lick
I’m with the sh*ts, I pass the 'Roc
Ain’t no assist, b*tch on my c*ck
Run up on me then you get shot
I feel like [?], I got the Juice, back when the cut, callin’ it Pac, yuh
I’m in the cut with the nina
I’m wettin’ it up like this sh*t Aquafina
You run up on me then I’m servin’ em’ bullets like tennis balls
n*gga ain’t talkin’ Serena
All of my n*ggas get money for real
I do money for shows, I cash out on arenas
I take yo b*tch, f*ck her
Send to the cleaners
Run up on me then I’m killin’
I swear that my hand on my nina
Don’t want no smoke
All of these n*ggas ain’t nothin’ but jokes
Run up on me like a.. like a Facebook post, lil n*gga, you poked

[Verse 3: XXXTENTACION]
Ay, ay, ay
Smashin' on the pus*y like a battle axe, uh
Got a bigger ass than a Cadillac, uh
Peanut butter drip, they got Cataract
f*ck his baby momma on a muhf*ckin' yoga mat, uh
Hunnid phone, hunnid phone, backpack
Laughing at these n*ggas like I'm muhf*ckin' Flapjack

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 #


All lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. All lyrics provided for educational purposes and personal use only.
Copyright © 2017-2019 Lyrics.lol