Testo Type monëy - Yeat
Testo della canzone Type monëy (Yeat), tratta dall'album AftërLyfe
5.56, big bullets to the head (woo, woo)
I don't even fuck with nobody, what's the deal?
I'ma lay back, kick back, pop a pill (woo, woo)
Drivin' in the coupe, I don't even grab the wheel
Swervin' the motherfuckin' madness (Skrrt)
I already said that shit (Skrrt)
Swervin' the motherfuckin' madness (hol' on, hol' on)
I already planned that shit (bitch)
I was just swervin' the motherfuckin' Tonka
Swervin' this shit right out the motherfuckin' bottom
Yeah, took this shit out on the town, I'ma pop me a Perc'
I'm not drinkin' Moscato (hol' on, hol' on, hol' on, hol' on)
I'm sippin' on lean, lean, I'm green, I'm high as a bird, bitch (phew)
Yeah, I'm poppin' the motherfuckin' X (hol' on)
Lil' bitch, I ain't no nerd, bitch (hol' on, hol' on)
Yeah, hol' on, come on, come and tell me what you said
And what you heard, bitch
Yeah, I got snipers aimin' down at your head (bang, bang)
Yeah, you a bird, bitch, yeah (bang, bang)
I was swervin'-swervin'-swervin' the diamond (Skrrt)
Right off the curb, bitch (Luh curb)
Yeah, seven-seven-seven
Send 'em to heaven
I'm talkin' to God, bitch (phew)
Yeah, you don't know who we are bitch (uh-uh, uh-uh)
I got dirty money buried in dirt, type of money
Put that boy on a shirt (shirt, shirt)
Type of money make the bitch go berserk
Type of money make that bitch go twerk (uh)
Type of money I could ruin your world
And type of money I could take your lil' girl
This type of money got me runnin' the world
This type of gun, it 'bouta hit in his bowels
'Bouta shoot him up, but this is not heroin
Roll 'em down and ditch him with the barrel
I got mob ties way before all of us
I'm a big star, call the astronomers
Got a big car, it gon' fit all of us
Bitch, you gon' need a mil' if you just want a verse
I don't wanna talk, no, I don't wanna converse
Back in the trap with no sign of a hearse
Bonnie and Clyde, got a Glock in her purse, oh, yeah
(Ooh, yeah, yeah)
We them boys who be poppin' them tags, bitch
When that bitch wanna fuck, go 'head
Yeah, my Glock shoot his shot like a fade
Bitch, we know that you broke, keep tabs on ya
Bitch you trippin', you off of them tabs
Like a snake, bitch, we hide in the grass
Made this shit out of motherfuckin' Lego
Made it easy, this shit from the ground
I wanna live too, that's a joke
And she sit on the beach, she a shell
We ride, we look covered in rags
Inside the Urus, the bitch all red (yeah)
Bend the bitch back and I bust on her head (yeah)
One, two, three, four shots leave him dead (he dead)
5.56, big bullets to the head
I don't even fuck with nobody, what's the deal? (What's the deal?)
I'ma lay back, kick back, pop a pill (woo, woo)
Drivin' in the coupe, I don't even grab the wheel (woo, woo)
5.56, big bullets to the head (woo, woo)
I don't even fuck with nobody, what's the deal?
I'ma lay back, kick back, pop a pill (woo, woo)
Drivin' in the coupe, I don't even grab the wheel
Swervin' the motherfuckin' madness (Skrrt)
I already said that shit (Skrrt)
Swervin' the motherfuckin' madness (hol' on, hol' on)
I already planned that shit (bitch)
I was just swervin' the motherfuckin' Tonka
Swervin' this shit right out the motherfuckin' bottom
Yeah, took this shit out on the town, I'ma pop me a Perc'
I'm not drinkin' Moscato (Hol' on, hol' on, hol' on, hol' on)
I'm sippin' on lean, lean, I'm green, I'm high as a bird, bitch (phew)
Yeah, I'm poppin' the motherfuckin' X (hol' on)
Lil' bitch, I ain't no nerd, bitch (hol' on, hol' on)
Yeah, hol' on, come on, come and tell me what you said
And what you heard, bitch
Yeah, I got snipers aimin' down at your head (bang, bang)
Yeah, you a bird, bitch, yeah (bang, bang)
I was swervin'-swervin'-swervin' the diamond (Skrrt)
Right off the curb, bitch (Luh curb)
Yeah, seven-seven-seven
Send 'em to heaven, I'm talkin' to God, bitch (phew)
Woo, woo (phew, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Woo, woo
Woo (woo), woo (woo)
Woo (woo), woo (woo)
Woo-woo-woo-woo
Credits
Writer(s): Gonçalo Brás, Zamani Mona, Leonardo Claus, Noah Olivier Smith
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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