Joey Trap, YBN Nahmir - EW lyrics
[Joey Trap, YBN Nahmir - EW lyrics]
This that shit that make
You do that blicky dance
Got me gripping on my pants they
So heavy from these bands, yo'
Clap it for me if you really wanna dance
Tell yo' shorty raise her hands
Know we all about them bands, yo'
She gon' twerk it while she do a hand stand
Bust my chopper like a fan
We be strumming like a banjo
Clap it for me if you really tryna buck
Got some bitches wanna fuck
So let's keep the toolie tucked, yo'
Spanish Harlem nigga smoking on some runts
Smoke that big double Dutch
Grab some philies when it's tough, yo'
Niggas always wanna run a nigga fade
Save the beefy shit for lunch
Keep the blicky case he punch, like, ew
I'm already rich but I need billions, ew
No I'm not a regular civilian, ew
'Member we was in them project buildings, ew
Bust a bottle down with some Brazilians, ew
Then I took yo shorty down to Neimans
Marcus, I heard you was a narc, boy
You scheming fiending niggas mad the
Rollie diamonds gleaning
But stop it you know I been that topic
We steaming hot boy, I think I'm hot
Boy, I'm on the block, boy
11: 34 and I'm still sipping
On some shots, boy, yeah
I ain't mean to say I drop boys
No pop boys, soda pop, boy, it's not, boy
Choppa pop, boy, uh, yo', it's a Glock, boy
In Tokyo, I'm looking for some
Pussy, it's a thot, boy
Lot of ex's looking for revenge
This world is finna end so
I don't need no friends, but
This that shit that make you
Do that blicky dance
Got me gripping on my pants
They heavy from these bands, yo'
Clap it for me if you really wanna dance
Tell yo' shorty raise her hands
Know we all about them bands, yo'
Got a hundred bands stacked
On a hundred bands shawty on my dick
She wanna fuck 'cause she know I'm the man
I need a percentage
You wanna sell some packs up in my land
Get a bag and then you get to fuck ho's
My young niggas grimy savage
Know they cut throat
I take yo' money and then I'm
Breaking down that lil' ho'
She on the blade, she make that Fendi, yeah
In pesos i'm on the north
I'm somewhere cooling where you can't go
I need a brick of white girl and that's Alina
When I was in school
I was fucking under bleachers
Take the trip to Japan, go to Akina
I grew my dreads
Now I'm feeling like a Rasta
Why that boy acting fake? Yo', he impostor
(Akachi in this mother fucker)
Copped a rollie, it cost me 'bout forty bands
I'll slap a nigga even if my hand broke
Still that same nigga bouncing out with 44s
Ayy, tell that model in Boost Mobile, yeah
We trap bitch
Went and bought a house and some
Ice when I got rich
My lil' bitch bang the set with all her kids
From AOB to LA they know what it is
From New York to SD you know how we rock
YBN, YRS you know how we talk
Flash back to been broke I was on the block
Now I'm nasty, but bet ya' shawty give me top
Ew, gross, ew