Big Yavo, TLE Cinco - Ask the Promoters lyrics

[Big Yavo, TLE Cinco - Ask the Promoters lyrics]

Gang no, we ain't tucking no chain no where
(yeah, Ayy, let that shit ride, Tav)
On gang (Lil' boy) say (Hell is you doing?)

I tell the plug shit gotta be musty
(Musty) , I don't even much want it
It ain't got no odor (No)
Tryna serve who at the door, man, this
Shit dead, artists don't get touched
Better ask the promoter
(The fuck is you thinking?)
Bitch, I'm from the hood
Niggas snatch out your motor
(Niggas snatch out your)
Lil' nigga ridin' with switch
Just like chauffeur (Fah, fah)
Lowkey be scared
They'll tell you to go first
(They'll tell you to)
Baby, close your legs 'cause I
Want the throat first (I want that top)



Get off this pack, one call
Need some more work
Nigga told you he trappin'
But rеally a dope clerk
Nigga told you he trappin'
But hе ain't sold no dope (No dope)
You thinkin' 'bout taking me
That's a no go (No, sir)
Loose stick bullets
They bounce just like pogo (Bah, bah)
When you walk in the trap
Better make sure the door closed
I came from nothin'
Now I'm richer than my teacher (Nothin')
Dre just walked in with a dirty two liter
They play with fire
I pull up with that heater
I ain't gotta rap
I got 'bows of that ether (Ether)
Every day, I go get more money, Monifah
Pull up and serve old school out the Regal
I told Bubba, "Roll up with exoto"
Brand new Glock take dick like a thot ho
Ayy, I asked the bitch if she fucking or not
Wrist off-road, got so many rocks
Got so much in the clock

Ayy, ayy, I'm having fame
But I lowered that blick
Get in court with the judge and
Act like I ain't see shit
Lot of these niggas too broke
Can't beef with switch on the glick
This bitch sound like a remix
Ayy, I'm in the kitchen
I'm cookin' a deep dish
She tryna fuck, Mike Jack', ho, beat it
Ayy, bitch leaving
Play with that gang, is you tweaking?
Designer drip, having sauce and season
Empty the drum with a switch
On that Glock, ayy, get popped
She ain't tryna fuck
Then she kicking some rocks
Real hood baby, nigga, long live Joc
She finessin' the kid, bitch, stop
Ayy, ayy, this rap shit
It's gettin' Eazy-E
We the niggas who they wanna be
I got these young niggas spinning
For free on me
Young niggas shooting from three, deep
Up in the field, where the fuck is my cleats?
I pour a four in a soda, I'm geeked, codeine
Ayy, long live Bankroll, I keep it street
Stalkin' this opp like
A motherfuckin' creep
I got some ice on my teeth
And it's ice in my cup ayy, firework
Nigga play and I'm lightin' it up
I was a loose screw, I had to tighten it up
Cuffin' that ho, but she dyin' to fuck, ayy

I tell the plug shit gotta be musty
(Musty) , I don't even much want it
It ain't got no odor (No)
Tryna serve who at the door, man, this
Shit dead, artists don't get touched
Better ask the promoter
(The fuck is you thinking?)
Bitch, I'm from the hood
Niggas snatch out your motor
(Niggas snatch out your)
Lil' nigga ridin' with switch
Just like chauffeur (Fah, fah)
Lowkey be scared
They'll tell you to go first
(They'll tell you to)
Baby, close your legs 'cause I
Want the throat first (I want that top)

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