Yes, You Did Lyrics

Yes, You Did Lyrics

Gang

Don't even look over here (Thanks, Yakree)

Gang

Shit (Shit)

Yeah, I'm so sick of niggas

Yeah, pull up, S550, spit in my ho mouth when I kiss her

Yeah, rich 'round drug dealers, yeah, rich 'round real killers

Yeah, could've been a victim, I ain't say that, yes, you did (Bah)

I'm so deep, my duffy and my bag and my Prada

Yeah, 4K for this coat, I'm a G.O.A.T., reppin' that project rap

Dripped up to the floor, bitch, I'm soaked, overflowed

He won't do whatever I do, this nigga my son, that's on folk, nigga

Yeah, niggas wan' see my downfall

When you get some money, number one rule, put your mans on

Bubble for eight hundred, I got it for low, feel like I scammed son

Hundred pounds a day, I got my cake up off of cell phones

Still hustlin' 'til my day come

Dog nigga who known for droppin' whores when I need badder bitches

Starvin' just like Marvin when you niggas was eatin' Sunday dinner

Love a bitch who treat me like a god, never touch my business

Send drugs to the house, you tell me stay every time I come and get 'em

Lord, yeah, paid in full like Ace 'nem, ballin' like I'm Shaq twin

Yeah, trappin', rappin', same time, packin' in my backend

Yeah, steppin' on they neck, I just ran up a check

House arrest, six months, but I bounced back

Just thank the Lord I rap, nigga

Yeah, I'm so sick of niggas

Yeah, pull up, S550, spit in my ho mouth when I kiss her

Yeah, rich 'round drug dealers, yeah, rich 'round real killers

Yeah, could've been a victim, I ain't say that, yes, you did (Bah)

I'm so deep, my duffy and my bag and my Prada

Yeah, 4K for this coat, I'm a G.O.A.T., reppin' that project rap

Dripped up to the floor, bitch, I'm soaked, overflowed

He won't do whatever I do, this nigga my son, that's on folk, nigga

Make sure my bitches and my glizzies get makeovers, new BBL

They say you catch a body, you in the chances of goin' to Hell

I'm already flamed up, I don't think I too much care

Under investigation, they say I'm poppin' fraudulent checks at Wells

But them crackers trippin', they know I'm out here trappin' and sellin' bales

Know my phone jumpin', you know I ain't gotta run to every cell

I got my hood jumpin', you know I ain't do this shit all by myself

Is she good at fuckin'? You know I'm buyin' bundles of that hair

I'm blowin' that shit, bitch, I don't care

I'm not talkin' 'bout buyin' some ass, I'm talkin' 'bout lettin' off them shells

I'll fuck, then turn around, then fuck the game, no, it ain't fair

I don't care nothin' 'bout no rap shit, I'm still out here servin' squares

(Shit) Yeah, I'm so sick of niggas

Yeah, pull up, S550, spit in my ho mouth when I kiss her

Yeah, rich 'round drug dealers, yeah, rich 'round real killers

Yeah, could've been a victim, I ain't say that, yes, you did (Bah)

I'm so deep, my duffy and my bag and my Prada

Yeah, 4K for this coat, I'm a G.O.A.T., reppin' that project rap

Dripped up to the floor, bitch, I'm soaked, overflowed

He won't do whatever I do, this nigga my son, that's on folk, nigga