Big Yavo - Them O Days lyrics
[Big Yavo - Them O Days lyrics]
Gang
Real trim baby, man, brought out them weapons
(LamarcusJ all on the beats now)
Fo' sure (But he ain't livin')
Ayy, you know when you went to the O
These facts (yeah) you weren't all 'round
Soon as I walk in that
Class I smell like reefa
Dope boy swag, I'm fresh than my teacher
No, we can’t kick it 'cause this ain’t FIFA
And yeah, I ball, but I don’t play soccer
Yay
What is that stench coming from yo' locker?
Don’t worry about that
Just stay out of my business
'Posed to be in Mrs manning
But I skipped to Mrs gilbert
Hold up, let me play calling
Let me sneak out the building
Say, go to car, gotta meet 'em at Philly
Bell finna rang, let me gеt back to Izzy
Supposed to be doing my work
But my fingers bе itching
I just can’t sit still
Gotta hop up and get it
Say, I just get to that green
Like my first name was ribbit
'Fore I walk back to school, hit the blunt
Spray twice
Just smoked a gram, so I gotta get right
Eyes real low and tight
Walk in that class, teacher say, "Boy
You high as kite"
I told Mr brent I’m high as a flight
He say, "Just do your work
You'll be alright
I'm thinking, "I’m tryna sneak
Shoot dice"
Ayy, ain’t talking math, tryna bet on a 6-8
One roll 6's, don’t move, that’s my pape'
I’m over here eating
I ain’t even grab the lunch tray
Hold up, I hear Kevs chains, better dip
There go Miss Drake
Now I buy one, tryna get through
The rest of the day
Still might catch me a play
I got ear phones in, and
There go Miss Hudges
Gotta go me a whole 'nother way
Say, I turn the corner, see shawty with shape
Hop down on her, now she got me late
Her boyfriend a athlete
But lil baby like hood guys
I’m from the trenches
But he from the good side
Ayy, ain’t tryna cuff
I'ma make her a team player
Hood baby, I don't eat lunch
I’m at Green Acres
Ayy, I don't play, baby, you can ask coach V
Tryna get off this zip before 3
Remember that Cobalt
Ridin' 'round four deep
How was you lame in school now you so street?
George, been had the walkie
Knew you was gon' be the police
Ayy, but it’s cool 'cause
He ain’t act gangster, get it?
What I’m sayin' just be yourself
Lot of fake, not a lot real left
And I’m one of the last one left
I got class work, paper in my pants right now
Ayy, before you love someone else
You gotta love yourself
I know someone’s who was
Sitting in the class, in the cell
I know someone’s who was sitting
In class and ain’t here
You ain’t gotta try to fit in
Just be who you is
Patty ending was beefing, for real
If you ain't real
You can’t stand next to me
Real n f with me, RIP teddy P
Get that monyun combo, sloppy
With extra cheese knew I was gon' get rich
I use to work at Burger King
My partner ain’t graduate
But he got a first degree
I hove the spot much I got my bachelors
I ain’t play football, but that pack
I'ma tackle it in the field house
I’m slamming like wrestling
Girl Scout cookies have you gasping
I'm talking white owls and swishers
No backwoods and zaza
I know you high if you hopped out of my car
I play Guitar Hero, knew I was a Rockstar
You mix black with that 'act, no wock'
Wock'
Webby's, Boosie's, Dickies, Coogie's
And I can’t forget 'bout the Reeboks
Say, I can forget 'bout
The all white sneakers
Walk in the hall, but I'm fly as a eagle
'Member, we was clowning, me and Demetrius
Know you can’t stand me, so
Sit in the bleachers, p
Been had that fire, you can ask Mr guns
My homie ain’t play sports, but he on the run
My partner ain’t play band, but he had a drum
This stick make you break dance
This one of them ones ayy, I can’t forget
We was thuggin' in Scott's class
My pockets was thin, but now I got thot pants
I hit the bud, take you home
The glizzy a iPad
That in just in case lil' buddy want act bad
Know these lil' boys show
Out for these females
Better stop 'fore I send
Some' to your email she say, "Yay"
But you ain't none' with that sh on you
It’s Friday, she acting like Ezell
That P stand for pussy, boy
You ain’t no player
At his neck like a turtle
Better go in your shell
Got my wrist in the pot
Like I’m staring Rotell
You better keep you a AK or you gon' fail
I can’t get caught skippin'
I’m slicker than jell
'Fore you get you a ring
You gon' take you some L's
If that phone keep ringing
Then I’m doing well i can’t get off the zip
I got saved by the bell
Real trim baby, man, brought out them weapons
(LamarcusJ all on the beats now)
Fo' sure (But he ain't livin')
Ayy, you know when you went to the O
These facts (yeah) you weren't all 'round
Soon as I walk in that
Class I smell like reefa
Dope boy swag, I'm fresh than my teacher
No, we can’t kick it 'cause this ain’t FIFA
And yeah, I ball, but I don’t play soccer
Yay
What is that stench coming from yo' locker?
Don’t worry about that
Just stay out of my business
'Posed to be in Mrs manning
But I skipped to Mrs gilbert
Hold up, let me play calling
Let me sneak out the building
Say, go to car, gotta meet 'em at Philly
Bell finna rang, let me gеt back to Izzy
Supposed to be doing my work
But my fingers bе itching
I just can’t sit still
Gotta hop up and get it
Say, I just get to that green
Like my first name was ribbit
'Fore I walk back to school, hit the blunt
Spray twice
Just smoked a gram, so I gotta get right
Eyes real low and tight
Walk in that class, teacher say, "Boy
You high as kite"
I told Mr brent I’m high as a flight
He say, "Just do your work
You'll be alright
I'm thinking, "I’m tryna sneak
Shoot dice"
Ayy, ain’t talking math, tryna bet on a 6-8
One roll 6's, don’t move, that’s my pape'
I’m over here eating
I ain’t even grab the lunch tray
Hold up, I hear Kevs chains, better dip
There go Miss Drake
Now I buy one, tryna get through
The rest of the day
Still might catch me a play
I got ear phones in, and
There go Miss Hudges
Gotta go me a whole 'nother way
Say, I turn the corner, see shawty with shape
Hop down on her, now she got me late
Her boyfriend a athlete
But lil baby like hood guys
I’m from the trenches
But he from the good side
Ayy, ain’t tryna cuff
I'ma make her a team player
Hood baby, I don't eat lunch
I’m at Green Acres
Ayy, I don't play, baby, you can ask coach V
Tryna get off this zip before 3
Remember that Cobalt
Ridin' 'round four deep
How was you lame in school now you so street?
George, been had the walkie
Knew you was gon' be the police
Ayy, but it’s cool 'cause
He ain’t act gangster, get it?
What I’m sayin' just be yourself
Lot of fake, not a lot real left
And I’m one of the last one left
I got class work, paper in my pants right now
Ayy, before you love someone else
You gotta love yourself
I know someone’s who was
Sitting in the class, in the cell
I know someone’s who was sitting
In class and ain’t here
You ain’t gotta try to fit in
Just be who you is
Patty ending was beefing, for real
If you ain't real
You can’t stand next to me
Real n f with me, RIP teddy P
Get that monyun combo, sloppy
With extra cheese knew I was gon' get rich
I use to work at Burger King
My partner ain’t graduate
But he got a first degree
I hove the spot much I got my bachelors
I ain’t play football, but that pack
I'ma tackle it in the field house
I’m slamming like wrestling
Girl Scout cookies have you gasping
I'm talking white owls and swishers
No backwoods and zaza
I know you high if you hopped out of my car
I play Guitar Hero, knew I was a Rockstar
You mix black with that 'act, no wock'
Wock'
Webby's, Boosie's, Dickies, Coogie's
And I can’t forget 'bout the Reeboks
Say, I can forget 'bout
The all white sneakers
Walk in the hall, but I'm fly as a eagle
'Member, we was clowning, me and Demetrius
Know you can’t stand me, so
Sit in the bleachers, p
Been had that fire, you can ask Mr guns
My homie ain’t play sports, but he on the run
My partner ain’t play band, but he had a drum
This stick make you break dance
This one of them ones ayy, I can’t forget
We was thuggin' in Scott's class
My pockets was thin, but now I got thot pants
I hit the bud, take you home
The glizzy a iPad
That in just in case lil' buddy want act bad
Know these lil' boys show
Out for these females
Better stop 'fore I send
Some' to your email she say, "Yay"
But you ain't none' with that sh on you
It’s Friday, she acting like Ezell
That P stand for pussy, boy
You ain’t no player
At his neck like a turtle
Better go in your shell
Got my wrist in the pot
Like I’m staring Rotell
You better keep you a AK or you gon' fail
I can’t get caught skippin'
I’m slicker than jell
'Fore you get you a ring
You gon' take you some L's
If that phone keep ringing
Then I’m doing well i can’t get off the zip
I got saved by the bell