Autumn!, Yeat - Probably! lyrics

Yeah

I told that bitch, "You can
Fuck who you want
You just can't fuck a nigga who
Really ain't hard as me"
Ain't got a million, it's more
Like a hundred thousand in my bank
But I promise that's fine with me
You really out here stressin' 'bout a bitch
That I fuck on the weekends
That ain't even fine to me
Used to get curved by this one bitch
'til she seen the blue check
And now she really got fond of me
Had to go cop me a 'Vette, I got tired
Of the Benzo, it just wasn't fast enough
Honestly want a Republic, Columbia, Capitol
Best have a bag if you
Thinkin' 'bout signing me
Dip for like five or six million


The only way I'm finna be
In the studio constantly
Come with like three or four
Mill' on the table
You just might get label to sign me yeah
Probably

Lil' ho, baguettes on my body, VS on my body
It hang from my neck
Like a motherfuckin' ornament (Go, let's go)
We just hit Louis, then Gucci, then Prada
Then oowee 'cause we wanna
Get us some garments back in the day
We was sellin' the work and the Percs
Out the motherfuckin' back of apartments
Barber leg look like El Chapo 'cause he
Got the gas on the gas
Yeah the gardens on gardens
I'm 'bout to spoil my sis', so
I bought me a Rollie, see we goin' where?
(Rollie) yeah, up (Rollie, Rollie)
Yeah, racks on racks, we goin' up
(Rollie, Rollie) and I know you mad 'cause
Your bitch wan' fuck
Bro keep that, bro keep that semi
Keep that tucked
Walk in this bitch with a whole lot of money
On me and the blick on my side
I might die tonight
I picked the disguise, got the pole
Got too much money on us
So we blow it like dynamite
And I just beat a 'Rari in a race, yeah
I was in a Jeep (Skrr, hey)
Nextel called me up, said they wan' come
Sign, sign me, with two ex-bitches
They both Siamese

Niggas be bitches, I got somethin' for
'em, you run up on me
Chopper knock out your molars
Rino just poured up a
Whole 'nother deuce, man
I swear it's like he never run out of soda
I made a lil' too much money this
Year, had to save, fuck a bank
Stuff this shit in the sofa
My new bitch stay in New York
Finna get some new season Moncleezy
For when it get colder
She be like, "Papas, I
Need some Chanel, Fendi
Balenciga to throw on my shoulder"
She get whatever she want 'cause
Her mama's the sweetest
The only thing I ever told her
The XD, the XD, the XD, yeah, I got the XD
She be everywhere with a holster
Come test me, come test me, come test
Me, lil' nigga, come test me
I'm not like the rest of these locals
Confetti, confetti, confetti, shit blow
Like confetti, oh
What? You thought it wasn't loaded?
Drivin' the Z51 like a psycho
Police probably thinkin' I stole it
It's all I did, maybe he wanna be
Me, my style, yeah, my swag, yeah
You stole it
Tired of my sons thinkin' they can
Compete with me, fuck it
Guess I can't control it

I told that bitch, "You can
Fuck who you want
You just can't fuck a nigga who
Really ain't hard as me"
Ain't got a million, it's more like
A hundred thousand in my bank
But I promise that's fine with me
You really out here stressin' 'bout a bitch
That I fuck on the weekends
That ain't even fine to me
Used to get curved by this one bitch
'til she seen the blue check
And now she really got fond of me
Had to go cop me a 'Vette, I got tired
Of the Benzo, it just wasn't fast enough
Honestly want a Republic, Columbia, Capitol
Best have a bag if you
Thinkin' 'bout signing me
Dip for like five or six million
The only way I'm finna be
In the studio constantly
Come with like three or four
Mill' on the table
You just might get label to sign me yeah
Probably