Robb Bank$, Kie Money, Los Hosale - Hell Yeah lyrics
[Robb Bank$, Kie Money, Los Hosale - Hell Yeah lyrics]
To this one right here, you bitch
Take your hat off when you see me nigga
Whole squad in this motherfucker
All here in this bitch bird call nigga
Smoking J $tash in a Backwood
Stash a brick in a Care Bear
Fucked her on a pill, yeah yeah
Selling dope, hell yeah
Yeah we got it on us, yeah
And that shit in me, yeah
And that fire on me, yeah
We ‘bout it, hell yeah
Yeah we on that, hell yeah
Yeah we on that, hell yeah
Yeah they on that, hell yeah
Fuckin’ with it, hell yeah
Come fuck with me, hell yeah
You buyin’ dope, hell yeah
‘Cause they fuck with me, hell yeah
Bitch I’m the phone, you a droid
Ain’t some coke in your life
Saw your bluff, boy you a lie
You an internet thug, you’re internet hype
I ain’t got no type, not at no no no
No not at all
Young nigga on papers like it’s a
Beat my highscore and I
Never play myself once
Boy you a pussy, I know you ain’t tough
I’m so high I could make love to above
You spill my cup nigga, fill up a tub
You know I had my girl out in the fuzz
She let us run train, plane, bus
Your bitch give me head, back of the club
I was so high, couldn’t even nut
Percocet, Adderal, she got me stuck
Put some respeck on my name, bird call
Squad up!
Smoking J $tash in a Backwood
Stash a brick in a Care Bear
Fucked her on a pill, yeah yeah
Selling dope, hell yeah
Yeah we got it on us, yeah
And that shit in me, yeah
And that fire on me, yeah
We ‘bout it, hell yeah
Yeah we on that, hell yeah
Yeah we on that, hell yeah
Yeah they on that, hell yeah
Fuckin’ with it, hell yeah
Come fuck with me, hell yeah
You buyin’ dope, hell yeah
‘Cause they fuck with me, hell yeah
Blue cash
And my pants big as Kylie Jenner’s ass
Kanye, black man crashing in
Another wall again
Don’t blame me, I’m nodding off of the xan
Mixing up Fanta, pouring up again and again
Methazine kickstand, beans on us, X-Man
Fuckin’ on her in the
Vicky’s Secret sweatpants
She hold the blunt with her left hand
I’m seeing through you niggas, CAT scan
Pussy niggas talkin’ but I ain’t hearing ‘em
My youngin hold the K like a Nigerian
Sip that straight bomb ‘til we get to the top
G-unit and me, 50 Cent and the Glock
Your ho like a Rolex, all she do is watch
Deli boy, tag team, Jeff Hardy, tag team
Matt hardy, tag team
Xans in my jacket like Michael
I be Santana, taking your title, strip
Custom made Calvin Klein’s, they from Cuba
She snorting my dope while
She blowing my shooter
Man in the mirror, my jacket on thriller
Sipping Spike Spiegel, holding a pistol
Fuck that pussy nigga, we ‘bout the issues
Jason Stratem how I shoot out the Fisker
She suck my dick, watching rewinds of Martin
Cartier frames got me geeking like Arthur
Taking trips to Jersey City, eating out Kayla
Relax, we get fat, and we’re
Smoking J $tash in a Backwood
Stash a brick in a Care Bear
Fucked her on a pill, yeah yeah
Selling dope, hell yeah
Yeah we got it on us, yeah
And that shit in me, yeah
And that fire with me, yeah
We ‘bout it, hell yeah
Yeah we on that, hell yeah
Yeah we on that, hell yeah
Yeah they on that, hell yeah
Fuckin’ with it, hell yeah
Come fuck with me, hell yeah
You buyin’ dope, hell yeah
‘Cause they fuck with me, hell yeah