Joey Trap,Ybn Nahmir — EW
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Текст Joey Trap,Ybn Nahmir — EW
[Intro]
(Akachi in this mother fucker)
Yo’, yo’, yo’
[Chorus: Joey Trap]
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
[Verse 1: Joey Trap]
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…
[Chorus: Joey Trap]
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’
[Verse 2: YBN Nahmir]
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 40 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
[Outro: Joey Trap]
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