Testo WYM - Quin Nfn feat. Lil 2z
Testo della canzone WYM (Quin Nfn feat. Lil 2z), tratta dall'album 2's & 4's
Ain't none but some shooters on my team
In the club with all my guys, I put my bitch in all Celine (yuh, yuh)
Yeah, this Northface is like Gucci what it seem
They be knowing we wildin' out I kinda feel like Chico Bean
Go to work, I lowkey feel like Vert, I'm strapped down with this Uzi
She a groupie throwing Quin that coochie just to go meet 2z (Quin)
Quick to dance with this new glick inside my hand I'm getting groovy (ha)
From the slums but I walked in the club with Moncler on the Gucci
Tryna box but we ain't in to boxing get shot with no options
Off the lot not from an auction, paint the whip red then it's rammin'
Catch a vibe, do what I say no Simon filled the neck with diamonds (diamonds)
They gon' book us Cartier be blinding I can't tell the time
And my lil' cougar hoe just need for sex, but I just need some neck (noggin')
Clutchin Rugers since he like computers let him see this Tec
Find his house, we start cappin' out don't need no GPS (come here)
Fuck a beam we comin' snatch your kid like we the CPS (damn)
You a rat so we can't beef for nothin' I can't do a thing (at all)
Niggas sleep on me they had a dream, like they Martin Luther King (wake up)
I been sittin' back making movies with the team tryna get cream (bitch)
Come and spin his block, lil' bro gon' leave it hot like Listerine
Let 'em play tho' might not see tomorrow but we gon' spin today tho'
This potato bound to hit his top then we gon' dip like Queso
Baby Draco and this Glock they go together, cheese and mayo (damn)
Know the gang don't need no payroll
They gon' smoke you when I say so (smoke you when I say so)
Ain't none but some shooters on my team
In the club with all my guys, I put my bitch in all Celine (yuh, yuh)
Yeah, this Northface is like Gucci what it seem
They be knowing we wildin' out I kinda feel like Chico Bean
I can feel the tension on the scene
I know lil' bro come and whack you for a VS diamond ring
Niggas don't be beefin' 'bout no cream
But these clips stay stretchin' out like Limousines
Like what you mean?
It's that gangsta music bitch we puttin' shit at Golden Gates
Ain't none but some shooters in my team like we was Golden State
Watch them through and get a drop
Don't post the wrong shit on your page (don't do that)
My brodie chide a body after body he barley show his face (shhh)
I feel like Dydrek with this guap, it's a ridiculous amount
And plus my Choppa ain't got no manners when it fart I air it out
Tryna play Lil 2z, pussy some I ain't never heard about (huh?)
I treat them FN's like a dumbbell when get 'em I work 'em out (baw, baw, baw)
These niggas shoulda worked at the mall 'cause they twelve like they Paul Blart
I feel like Harry with the stick puttin' spell on them Hogewarts
I'm in the field I be balling but hustle my top sport (it is)
Niggas names black and white, like a pair of some Concords (what the fuck?)
Put this bitch in park and hop out, lean him like he doing the limbo
Put they partners, mommy, daddy, granny, cousin in that K4 (hey)
Stack these racks on top of each other like a brand new pack of Mentos
This bitch a nat, she tryna eat the sex
So she can go meet Quincho (Quincho)
Credits
Writer(s): Javier Scheuermann, Matthew Way
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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