Yung Joc (feat. Luh Tyler)
If I had a dick, it would be soft
'Cause you talkin' too much, now I'm peed off
I'ma fuck you real good, take my weave off
I'ma would if I could, I'm a tree top
You a good lookin' bird, you a peacock
And my music be keepin' the streets hot
We gon' have us some babies at wedlock
'Cause that coochie make that nigga's leg lock
And one punch to your head give a topknot
She gon' ride by my crib wit' a card lock
Man, it's goin' down, bitch playin' Yung Joc
He ain't playin' that, so nigga pop-pop
I mean, how you can't fuck wit' your socks off?
Need it perfect, now take a band off
I thought we was gon' fight, but you ran off
Now you makin' me dry, turn the fan off
You ain't tired, your dick need a pep talk
And I know that this summer yo' head blocked
I'm a Gemini, nigga, I flip-flop
If we beefin', I'm still ridin' drop-top
And it's only for you, got a soft spot
You was joggin' and trappin' off hotspot
Word, word (Yuh), word, word (okay)
Word, word (huh?), word, word (okay)
If I had a dick, it would be soft
'Cause you talkin' too much, now I'm peed off
I'ma fuck you real good, take my weave off
I'ma would if I could, I'm a tree top
If I had a dick, it would be soft
'Cause you talkin' too much, now I'm peed off
I'ma fuck you real good, take my weave off
I'ma would if I could, I'm a tree top
Niggas talkin' too much, got me pissed off
Bitch, I'm high off the gas, 'bout to lift off
Bitch, my pockets gettin' fatter than Rick Ross
Gettin' money and I'm stackin' that shit tall
If a nigga out here playin' around with the guys
Bro done make 'em hit the crisscross
Every day, I hit the booth and I snap on the mic
Nigga, that's what I'm gettin' rich off
Nigga, I got racks (racks), racks (racks), racks (racks)
Nigga, I got racks (racks), racks (racks), racks (racks)
Man, these niggas ain't get no bag (bag)
Bag (bag), bag (bag), all my bitches, they be bad (bad)
Bad (bad), bad (bad), on gang nigga, yeah
My bitch so bad and I love her friend
Shit don't make no sense, I had to cut that bitch off
She always on games, but she must think I'm playin'
Lil' boy, step yo' game up, yo' bitch in a Honda, my bitch in a Benz
And my nigga, he get rowdy just like Ronda
He'll knock out yo' man's (knock out yo' man's, bro)
Skeet
'Cause you talkin' too much, now I'm peed off
I'ma fuck you real good, take my weave off
I'ma would if I could, I'm a tree top
You a good lookin' bird, you a peacock
And my music be keepin' the streets hot
We gon' have us some babies at wedlock
'Cause that coochie make that nigga's leg lock
And one punch to your head give a topknot
She gon' ride by my crib wit' a card lock
Man, it's goin' down, bitch playin' Yung Joc
He ain't playin' that, so nigga pop-pop
I mean, how you can't fuck wit' your socks off?
Need it perfect, now take a band off
I thought we was gon' fight, but you ran off
Now you makin' me dry, turn the fan off
You ain't tired, your dick need a pep talk
And I know that this summer yo' head blocked
I'm a Gemini, nigga, I flip-flop
If we beefin', I'm still ridin' drop-top
And it's only for you, got a soft spot
You was joggin' and trappin' off hotspot
Word, word (Yuh), word, word (okay)
Word, word (huh?), word, word (okay)
If I had a dick, it would be soft
'Cause you talkin' too much, now I'm peed off
I'ma fuck you real good, take my weave off
I'ma would if I could, I'm a tree top
If I had a dick, it would be soft
'Cause you talkin' too much, now I'm peed off
I'ma fuck you real good, take my weave off
I'ma would if I could, I'm a tree top
Niggas talkin' too much, got me pissed off
Bitch, I'm high off the gas, 'bout to lift off
Bitch, my pockets gettin' fatter than Rick Ross
Gettin' money and I'm stackin' that shit tall
If a nigga out here playin' around with the guys
Bro done make 'em hit the crisscross
Every day, I hit the booth and I snap on the mic
Nigga, that's what I'm gettin' rich off
Nigga, I got racks (racks), racks (racks), racks (racks)
Nigga, I got racks (racks), racks (racks), racks (racks)
Man, these niggas ain't get no bag (bag)
Bag (bag), bag (bag), all my bitches, they be bad (bad)
Bad (bad), bad (bad), on gang nigga, yeah
My bitch so bad and I love her friend
Shit don't make no sense, I had to cut that bitch off
She always on games, but she must think I'm playin'
Lil' boy, step yo' game up, yo' bitch in a Honda, my bitch in a Benz
And my nigga, he get rowdy just like Ronda
He'll knock out yo' man's (knock out yo' man's, bro)
Skeet
Credits
Writer(s): Tia Corine Thompson-shults, Tyler Meeks, Oronday Simon
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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