Yeat, SeptembersRich - CAN’T B ME lyrics
Yeat [Noah Olivier Smith] Portland, Oregon/Irvine, California, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Yeat, SeptembersRich - CAN’T B ME lyrics]
I couldn't be mad
I couldn't be mad
I couldn't be mad
Skai
In that SRT, watch it sweep the streets
Ain't this shit for free, I got cash
Every beat, I spazz, I can't do no bad
Do no wrong
I just fucked that bitch
I'm pulling on her thong
Smokin' strong
When I'm in my zone, please leave me alone
Don't call my phone
Bitch, we high as hell
My lil bro been shipping them packs
I call the mail
I just mixed the tris up with the wock
Feel like a snail
No I'm not Malcolm in the middle
I'm with two bitches that know me well
We got hundreds, we got hundreds
We got long money boy
Don't make me reach out to my
Brother and get you gone
Lil boy
That's my own money boy
That's your home money boy
Counting bag after bag, so many racks
How could I be sad
How could I be sad when I
Got this shit on go?
How could I be sad when I'm on Oxy?
How could I be mad when they
Stay tryna steal my flow?
How could I be mad when racks
Are sittin' on the floor?
My bitch so mad, 'cause I take her as a joke
Hundred racks, got a bag
But I need me like 200 more
What the hell is you doing?
You look like a goofy
Lil dude
Don't fuck with the gang or we
Sending them missiles at you
Rockets, dead presidents all in my pocket
Them peasants keep hating, keep watching
New SRT, we not stopping
At the red light, we ain't stopping
If we catch you in traffic, we plotting
Put my name on your song, now you poppin'
Bought that feature and I taxed him $1000
Yeah, I brought your bitch back to the
Penthouse and she give me that noggin
I'm off the Oxy, bitch I'm too high
This shit got me noddin'
Double cup with the ice please
The Sprite please
You not high as me
SRT Jeep, 200, I'm on a high speed
Lil' niggas tryna be me you not hot as me
I couldn't be mad
I couldn't be mad
Skai
In that SRT, watch it sweep the streets
Ain't this shit for free, I got cash
Every beat, I spazz, I can't do no bad
Do no wrong
I just fucked that bitch
I'm pulling on her thong
Smokin' strong
When I'm in my zone, please leave me alone
Don't call my phone
Bitch, we high as hell
My lil bro been shipping them packs
I call the mail
I just mixed the tris up with the wock
Feel like a snail
No I'm not Malcolm in the middle
I'm with two bitches that know me well
We got hundreds, we got hundreds
We got long money boy
Don't make me reach out to my
Brother and get you gone
Lil boy
That's my own money boy
That's your home money boy
Counting bag after bag, so many racks
How could I be sad
How could I be sad when I
Got this shit on go?
How could I be sad when I'm on Oxy?
How could I be mad when they
Stay tryna steal my flow?
How could I be mad when racks
Are sittin' on the floor?
My bitch so mad, 'cause I take her as a joke
Hundred racks, got a bag
But I need me like 200 more
What the hell is you doing?
You look like a goofy
Lil dude
Don't fuck with the gang or we
Sending them missiles at you
Rockets, dead presidents all in my pocket
Them peasants keep hating, keep watching
New SRT, we not stopping
At the red light, we ain't stopping
If we catch you in traffic, we plotting
Put my name on your song, now you poppin'
Bought that feature and I taxed him $1000
Yeah, I brought your bitch back to the
Penthouse and she give me that noggin
I'm off the Oxy, bitch I'm too high
This shit got me noddin'
Double cup with the ice please
The Sprite please
You not high as me
SRT Jeep, 200, I'm on a high speed
Lil' niggas tryna be me you not hot as me