Lets Get on Dey Ass Songtext
von Lil Yachty
Lets Get on Dey Ass Songtext
Ever, hrr
(Yeah) I′m finna get mean
Turn up the circuits
Turn up the -
What? I'm tryna break me a back
Yeah, I′m tryna break me a spine
I'm tryna pour me a eight
Yeah, I'm tryna pour me a dime
I′m tryna order a crate
Yeah, ain′t never bought me no lines
We finna get on they ass
We finna get on they ass
We finna get on they ass (hrr), uh
Alright
Deal me personally, nigga, I'm poppin′
I'm makin′ the calls, I'm pointin′ the fingers, I'm gettin' ′em dropped
Wеll, well
Ball off to that judge with the rеd shells
He pissy, can′t do nothin' to me
He pussy, his bitch wanna do me
I ain′t trippin', she came from The Boonies (ha)
Like fuck it, I said it, come show me
It′s over, I did it, they owe me
Hm, hm, hm, mm-hm
Fuckin' them up, skrrt on they ass (grr)
I run up the millions and spend it on glass (grr, phew)
Fuck the niggas that ain′t got no paper, hm, hm
They goin' to water, don't run out of money
I′m payin′ to hit with your hoe? Ay, you trippin', buddy
Ha-ha (ha), ha-ha (phew)
Ha-ha (brr), ha-ha (yeah), hm
Throw money up in the eco′ (hm)
Shootin' that bitch like a free throw
Maybach, since I was a Vito (grr, what?)
My brother, my twin, Cardo (huh)
I still put the drugs in the cargo (yeah)
They bills ain′t more than my car note (phew)
These bitches is buy-able, barcode (grr)
Huh, run it on auto, yup
The money, the motto
(Yeah, yeah)
(Yeah)
(Yeah, yeah)
What? I'm tryna break me a back
Yeah, I′m tryna break me a spine
I'm tryna pour me a eight
Yeah, I'm tryna pour me a dime
I′m tryna order a crate
Yeah, ain′t never bought me no lines
We finna get on they ass
We finna get on they ass
We finna get on they ass (hrr), uh
Alright
Yeah
(Yeah) I′m finna get mean
Turn up the circuits
Turn up the -
What? I'm tryna break me a back
Yeah, I′m tryna break me a spine
I'm tryna pour me a eight
Yeah, I'm tryna pour me a dime
I′m tryna order a crate
Yeah, ain′t never bought me no lines
We finna get on they ass
We finna get on they ass
We finna get on they ass (hrr), uh
Alright
Deal me personally, nigga, I'm poppin′
I'm makin′ the calls, I'm pointin′ the fingers, I'm gettin' ′em dropped
Wеll, well
Ball off to that judge with the rеd shells
He pissy, can′t do nothin' to me
He pussy, his bitch wanna do me
I ain′t trippin', she came from The Boonies (ha)
Like fuck it, I said it, come show me
It′s over, I did it, they owe me
Hm, hm, hm, mm-hm
Fuckin' them up, skrrt on they ass (grr)
I run up the millions and spend it on glass (grr, phew)
Fuck the niggas that ain′t got no paper, hm, hm
They goin' to water, don't run out of money
I′m payin′ to hit with your hoe? Ay, you trippin', buddy
Ha-ha (ha), ha-ha (phew)
Ha-ha (brr), ha-ha (yeah), hm
Throw money up in the eco′ (hm)
Shootin' that bitch like a free throw
Maybach, since I was a Vito (grr, what?)
My brother, my twin, Cardo (huh)
I still put the drugs in the cargo (yeah)
They bills ain′t more than my car note (phew)
These bitches is buy-able, barcode (grr)
Huh, run it on auto, yup
The money, the motto
(Yeah, yeah)
(Yeah)
(Yeah, yeah)
What? I'm tryna break me a back
Yeah, I′m tryna break me a spine
I'm tryna pour me a eight
Yeah, I'm tryna pour me a dime
I′m tryna order a crate
Yeah, ain′t never bought me no lines
We finna get on they ass
We finna get on they ass
We finna get on they ass (hrr), uh
Alright
Yeah
Writer(s): Miles Parks Mccollum, Ronald Nathan Latour, Jonah Kolle Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com