Paroles de la chanson yea i kno par DDG

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Paroles de la chanson yea i kno par DDG

Yeah, it's a couple bad bitches that I fucked I wanna spin the block on
Niggas hatin' on the music 'til it play and then they say, "He got songs", yeah
Yeah, I know, bitch
I got plaques on plaques, I'm rappin' to the slow shit
I got racks on racks, I'm ballin' on the coaches
Seven figures in tax, the IRS on hoe shit
Niggas hatin' on me, whole time he takin' notes
When I speak, they listen, they think DDG the pope
Yo' bitch can't answer the phone, she got somethin' in her throat
She leakin' outta her thong, I thought I was on a boat, huh

Huh, they know I'm passionate about the music
If it was about the money, then they know I wouldn't do it
I'm raking in them M's, crackin' jokes with my influence
I put your hoe on film, turnt her up, and then she blew it, okay
Ain't flying in Econ', unless the seats gone
Be a cold day in hell if I do a free song
Want a bitch to know that I ignored her, read receipts on
I nickname her Dora, I explore her, turn her freak on
Bought my mama a G-Wagon on her birthday, same day
I don't give a fuck what a lame say
When I pull up on them, they walk backwards like the Nae-Nae
Forty-seven hoes, CapHouse, we got AK's, what
Ain't no niggas gettin' in, this an all girls party
Had a meeting in the morning, fucked around and I was tardy
Popped a pill like it's candy, I be turnt off of smarties
I don't hit hoes raw, cause they already canceled Maury
I ain't got time for no confusion
I smack her on her ass, she woke up with hella bruises
And Kiki got an attitude then I'ma call up Susan
I don't discriminate on race, that two-percent will do it
A hunnid M's don't seem impossible
A billion dollars don't seem impossible
What's a real nigga to a little obstacle?
Beat cancellations every month, I'm unstoppable, okay

Yeah, it's a couple bad bitches that I fucked I wanna spin the block on
Niggas hatin' on the music 'til it play and then they say, "He got songs", yeah
Yeah, I know, bitch
I got plaques on plaques, I'm rappin' to the slow shit
I got racks on racks, I'm ballin' on the coaches
Seven figures in tax, the IRS on hoe shit
Niggas hatin' on me, whole time he takin' notes
When I speak, they listen, they think DDG the pope
Yo' bitch can't answer the phone, she got somethin' in her throat
She leakin' outta her thong, I thought I was on a boat, okay

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, yeah
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, yeah

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