Vince Staples — Yeah Right

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Текст Vince Staples — Yeah Right

Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah)

Is your house big? Is your car nice?
Is your girl fine? Fuck her all night?
Is you well paid? Are your shows packed?
If your song played, would they know that?
How the thug life? How the love life?
How the workload? Is your buzz right?
Do the trap jump? Is the plug right?
Got your head right? Boy, yeah right
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah)
Pretty woman wanna slit the wrist

Pretty woman wanna be a rich man’s bitch
Pretty women want a couple kids
Pretty women want a new ass, new lips
Pretty women wanna push a Benz
Come correct and she won’t let you in
Thumbin’ through a check, she gets it in
Diamonds on your neck, is them pretend?
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah)
Got an enemy that changes dependin’ what direction
You’re facin’
Got an enemy that tells you what block and what division

You’re placed in
You pretend to get a better idea about the lifestyle
You’re chasin’
Keep pretendin’, make it real until every cell replaced, erased
Pop ’til it’s vacant
Pop ’til the wrist pop
Pop ’til he shakin’
Pop like four on the floor been in rotation
No allegation
Popular demand, I understand my name is only for conversation
New York nigga be like «deadass»
L.A. nigga be like «on the dead homies»
I was off the porch like Fed-Ex
211, got bread on me
K-Dot twilight the zeitgeist

Roll like fried rice and tempura shrimp
Temporary pimp, nah, don’t remember them
Just canary yellow gem, jumping out the fuckin’ gym
Swang like new Dana Dane, I ride dirty
Paid like two Damon Wayans, retire early
Fade like shadows, the stallion, the cattle
A bitches decision for you, is narrow
Collision, the money, and fame, the pharaoh
The physic, the chemist, the lame
Collateral for Kendrick whenever exchange
Compatible for riches with more to gain
I said, nigga, yeah right
I don’t fair fight but I bear fight
Lookin’ for my next roadkill for the headlight

Hangin’ on my last four kills for the highlights
My life, hiii life, high five, bye, bye
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah)