Lyrics:
Yeah, Yeah
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah
Bad b foreign and cute
Like lemme show you my way
10-10 reefer in her zoot
One eye Closed that's Fetty no Drake
Smoking
How are you stoppin' us? They is not toppin' us
You know I had to cop that shit just by the twos
Blood in my chakra, I will not pop at ya
Put money
end when government take control
Judging by the media it's really just been the same
People always fighting but saying "they want change"
Lessons never
Uh yea uh
This shit raw no cut uh
Uh uh uh foxes only lets get it
I'm by the city so I ain't got the drakes I brought all the switches with me
the wall,
Turns her ankle and down she falls.
They all went sailing 'cross the lake
And all got swallowed by a big black snake.
And the ones who escaped
to find a woman when you' talented and black
When you hollerin' at labels
And they silencing you back
'Cause you fail to thoroughly discuss some violence
know that my nigga gone blow
I got me some money, I want me some more
I came from nothing ain't expect me to grow
I want me a meal so I'm chasing dreams,
push the button, baby
Throw the ceiling back and I just
Blow the sky a kiss
Full of smoke, said if they want it
Niggas know what time it is
Big face
I’m smoking deadly and it’s hitting hard niggas can’t smoke how I smoke
You got a drake but ain’t got a heart niggas can’t poke how I poke
And I’m
shit
Turn this off go listen to Drake (You can go listen to Drake nigga!)
If you want that money money shit
Turn this off go listen to Wayne (And I mean
HONORcBLE FLEX(S.O.S. LO, featuring Chris King and Trippie Red) SONG SHEET
Song Produced by: cdrian "cP" Porter, cbraham Poythress and , CeeJay
while you're riding on your skateboard
They ain't even know it
Have Drake sing a song just to get her pussy wet
Then I take her to the crib
Man fuck
they pound
So much cum on my face, gonna drown
Call me Milly Bobby Brown
Cuz drake is molesting me
I punched MJ, his nose fell in my hand
I said let me
feelings, I feel like I play for the Saints
I just wanna hurt you, aim for the skanks
Then aim for all these fake Kanyes, Jays, Waynes and the Drakes
I'm
feelings, I feel like I play for the Saints
I just wanna hurt you, aim for the skanks
Then aim for all these fake Kanyes, Jays, Waynes and the Drakes
I'm
while I'm driving at ten two
Tell a weak nigga don't even fuck wit me get you some business that you need to tend to
Tell them stop cap in they rap
in my blood
You know he ain't never gone
Got some brothers in the sky
Got some right by my side
Them opps know what it is
We the seekers they go hide
Yea bitch we going up
Yea Yea, I love it
When that Drake hit that body and they try to get up
You ain't felt the full force of a glock with a button
commas
And they still in they pajamas
Got the boom Bap A+ like honors
They skipped some classes
Barely got diplomas
Starting to see what I am promised
are creations of the fucking situation
That's having our brains racing like Dayton
Wearing some fucking Heelies
I know you fucking feel me, I want
Like the Xbox Joysticks
I want to fight
Scotty hold this
I don’t want to put a hole in him
I should be Drake’s new songwriter
Cause I swear to God that I
Coke got they nose bleedin' like the seats where you can't see the stage
High up in arenas where they see their faves
AKA me and Drizzy Drake, we
can't stress bout a hoe
They all gon' come, they all gon' you know the motto
Lil SoYhani gonna move by example
And the rest of you Niggas gonna follow
I'm
of the plan to the throne
Lotta n**gas like Grievous, they bots and they clones
Part some scars on his face like his last name Capone
Read between lines, I can
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