Body Ya - Album Version (Edited)

Shout out to my enemies
Shout out my competitors
Shout out to my mini me's, I hope you do better bruh
Better me better you etc etc
Shout out to the followers I will stay ahead of ya
Big up to the haters, big up, all you little niggas
Bigging y'all up should make you feel a little bigger
Big up to the fake niggas from a real nigga
Fake niggas help you recognise the real niggas
Uhh, I'm a Brooklyn nigga anyhow
Closet looking like I opened up a Vinnie Styles
Bitches say we are the best
So mommy in my jeans PRPS
Yeah street fidda didda gang
Same place I see em, same place they chalk em out
We speak Guapanese, come see what we talking bout

Holla at your homie, holla at your dogg
Looking for the competition holla at the morgue
Once I say hi to her she gon say bye to ya
If looks could kill my style might body ya
B-b-body ya
B-b-body ya
If looks could kill my style might body ya
B-b-body ya
B-b-body ya
If looks could kill my style might body ya
Shout out to the groupies
Shout out to my ex

Prol saying fuck me so shout out to the sex
Don't get mad at me cause I'm onto the next
All of this cause I ain't respond to your text
Big up to you bum bitches in your 10 dollar dresses
Big up to the big girls y'all are so Precious
Salty bitches try to raise a nigga blood pressure
Grown little girls, do your mouth get any fresher
Uhh, but it ain't fresh as Loso
Monogramed out son in case you didn't know so
Flow so deadly swag too murderous
Known for being nice, that don't mean courteous
This is nothing new, Im not a beginner
I get big checks like the lottery winners
A boy dissing I, boy listen I
Kindly sent him on his way, tell the mortician hi
Holla at your homie, holla at your dogg

Looking for the competition holla at the morgue

Once I say hi to her she gon say bye to ya
If looks could kill my style might body ya
B-b-body ya
B-b-body ya
If looks could kill my style might body ya
B-b-body ya
B-b-body ya
If looks could kill my style might body ya
What it look like, nigga?
It's Young Funeral Told y'all niggas

I got this shit nigga
There Is No Competition 2

What up Dram'? What it look like?
Huh? What we talkin', baby?

What we talkin' 'bout?
These niggas is dead
What we talkin' 'bout?
Yeah, I said it, dead, nice
Niggas might as well lay down in a hole
And throw dirt on they self
It's funeral



Credits
Writer(s): John Jackson, Christopher Breyand
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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