Big Yavo - Jet Lee lyrics
[Big Yavo - Jet Lee lyrics]
Say that chop that hoe got acne
A bump on my stock
And that glizzy thing my pole
A switch on my glock
40 walking with his stuff
Can't pull out my knot
Time and money you don't know it
All of my watch all up that wrist
I got dog shit i know niggas hatin
I'm in the mall with it
Please reach for my chain
Imma get self defense in NY 4 5 days
Posted up selling nicks
Posted up selling shit
Nigga, I'll sell a fit she got a OnlyFans
Bet come here I'll sell a bitch
And if you want you some don't
Come round talkin bout celibate
And lil bruh trap be doing good
Throw him some extra shit
Send me some money and a addy
I'll mail you this
My big brother he be cooking
You might smell some shit
Can you smell the rock it cooking
This a Dior jacket
Normally Aeropostale hoodies
My last pay look like Ashton Kutcher
I'm having dog shit say you a master bully
So much motion save yo frenchies
Want you a twenty niggas stop spending
Wanna learn how to cook i know a chemist
Nigga my dad and em been with me (No, yeah)
Scrape gang scrape the pot
Go make a stop then hug the block
Or grab some work and set up shop
These niggas bankroll going down like Joc
You can tell when a nigga
Lost he start buying J's
The nigga just was pouring Woc
But now he sippin Quagen
Nobody told you about all
Them designer shoes anyway
Can't buy designer drugs if you
Ain't out here getting paid
Now you broke as fuck
Tryna keep up with the fucking wave
I can go designer or go d
Boy pop out hood baby
Dickie suit with the Nikes on
250 in the styrofoam
Pull some shit out a shoebox so
Grown have a whole mind gone
Plain Rollie another time zone
This that sir yes sir
When you sippin real drank
Sometimes your words get slurred
CartI got my vision blurred
Ballin step back shoot like Curry like that
Bitch hang up my jersey icy
Bitch my wrist McFlurry
Don't ask me where I'm at and don't
Text back gon have me worried
Nigga pulled up and slowed down
And I upped my 30
I ain't see 12 they told me drop
My gun I jumped the curb
I ran they ass all way to
Whalen all right by 3rd
And on my kids all this shit
Facts I ain't making no words
You seen Yay come through in that
Cat all making a serve
Problem on the next street
Yo bitch wanna neck me
High top Ricks cost 17
These kicks high like Jet Lee
A bump on my stock
And that glizzy thing my pole
A switch on my glock
40 walking with his stuff
Can't pull out my knot
Time and money you don't know it
All of my watch all up that wrist
I got dog shit i know niggas hatin
I'm in the mall with it
Please reach for my chain
Imma get self defense in NY 4 5 days
Posted up selling nicks
Posted up selling shit
Nigga, I'll sell a fit she got a OnlyFans
Bet come here I'll sell a bitch
And if you want you some don't
Come round talkin bout celibate
And lil bruh trap be doing good
Throw him some extra shit
Send me some money and a addy
I'll mail you this
My big brother he be cooking
You might smell some shit
Can you smell the rock it cooking
This a Dior jacket
Normally Aeropostale hoodies
My last pay look like Ashton Kutcher
I'm having dog shit say you a master bully
So much motion save yo frenchies
Want you a twenty niggas stop spending
Wanna learn how to cook i know a chemist
Nigga my dad and em been with me (No, yeah)
Scrape gang scrape the pot
Go make a stop then hug the block
Or grab some work and set up shop
These niggas bankroll going down like Joc
You can tell when a nigga
Lost he start buying J's
The nigga just was pouring Woc
But now he sippin Quagen
Nobody told you about all
Them designer shoes anyway
Can't buy designer drugs if you
Ain't out here getting paid
Now you broke as fuck
Tryna keep up with the fucking wave
I can go designer or go d
Boy pop out hood baby
Dickie suit with the Nikes on
250 in the styrofoam
Pull some shit out a shoebox so
Grown have a whole mind gone
Plain Rollie another time zone
This that sir yes sir
When you sippin real drank
Sometimes your words get slurred
CartI got my vision blurred
Ballin step back shoot like Curry like that
Bitch hang up my jersey icy
Bitch my wrist McFlurry
Don't ask me where I'm at and don't
Text back gon have me worried
Nigga pulled up and slowed down
And I upped my 30
I ain't see 12 they told me drop
My gun I jumped the curb
I ran they ass all way to
Whalen all right by 3rd
And on my kids all this shit
Facts I ain't making no words
You seen Yay come through in that
Cat all making a serve
Problem on the next street
Yo bitch wanna neck me
High top Ricks cost 17
These kicks high like Jet Lee