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j.r. writer - hell yeah lyrics

[intro]
(you think there’s a perception that you’re slowing down a little bit?)

everybody slows down when they get older. i think if i can just be smarter than all the youngings that’s comin’ i’ll be fine. am i slowing down? maybe a little bit, maybe not

(you have a chance to win a championship here?)

when i’m on a team, we’ve got good guys around me, then yes, yes, h-ll yes

[verse 1: jr writer]
look it’s funeral wakes, graveyard flower time
no studio breaks, trey b-lls, power grind
y’all on ramadan, save that i devour mines
someone (?) i came back with them power lines
chasin’ down the skrilla
quit playin’ with a k!ller
i ain’t a dermatologist, you ain’t gon’ get a filler
you claimin’ n-gg-s iller? must be from cincinnati
well i triple dare you crawl up in this cage with a gorilla
right hook, left hook, i’ll give you the best look
ever think of checking me? i better see check books
i don’t think you understand whenever the chef cook
playin’ with the thunder gang? you better be westbrook
trigger finger itchy
.22 to .50s
i don’t which one a n-gg- pickin’ up, i’m picky
you think you finna get me?
you little n-gg-s really got me f-cked up
which one of y’all hit me with a (?)
dig me i’m in the porsche
only 5th or boss
they’ve been screamin’ all day so the engine is horse
christian diors
you ain’t know it n-gg- i floss
gators on the kid like i’m down at disney resort
dog who you cats foolin’? i will finish you
it’s principle, i’m past true it
who your cl-ss schoolin’?
i’m on the ave cruisin’
headed to the party and i’m hittin’ everything movin’
that’s some mad shootin’
pocket and cash, you see i got the ave boomin’
body in trash, i mean what kind of bag you in?
you don’t give up that scratch then your hat fumin’
what’s the nickel pack, pack, you can ask hue and
when i put on a show i got these cats hootin’
what you put in the flow and how is that human?
gat come with the extendo, your -ss poolin’
i grab money out the window, i’m fast foodin’

[verse 2: dave east]
i had to rollie the wrist, i put in the order, get hit
i come from the border, touching quarters, order be rich
pull up in that foreign, my b-tch so foreign, take a pic
rather get money than lay with a b-tch
them youngin’s that’s with me, they stay with the sh-ts
i do vvs so flawless
these rap n-gg-s so garbage
put an infrared on that carbon
we taxin’ n-gg-s no bargins
made a couple racks, that’s a good night
when i took flight, first cl-ss
porsche 911, that’ll mrk past
that’s milly rock in the 3rd ave
section full of bottles, i don’t ever do the bar
i’m always in the buildin’, them b-tches know who we are
i’m smokin’ on the finest, this sh-t look like a cigar
hear you ridin’ like raiden n-gg- get up out the car
goin’ out my way to finally come up out that dark
i couldn’t see no lights, livin’ trife, me and my dog
stop askin’ questions, mami you gotta take it off
liquor, weed, and molly, them b-tches’ll probably take it off
i don’t know nothin’ about you but i just chase the money
i went too hard to ever let a n-gg- take it from me
i’m in neiman’s rememberin’ every day was b-mmy
making pick ups in the projects, addicted to filthy money
the last bid, i promise i will put that work down
god bless the child that hold his own, let’s go to church now
the devil on me
hope you can dig it, i got a shovel on me
hard for me to walk through detective’s i got that metal on me
meek already told you n-gg-s in life it’s levels homie
these n-gg-s switch like the seasons, i’m feelin’ better lonely
all by my dolo, polo when i do fall gear
in public hard to get close to me, just know we all here
in one year i did a song with nas, did a song with styles
did a song with jada, give a f-ck about haters
did records with wyclef, got a drink with noreaga
pusha t, that’s my n-gg-
adidas come in flavors
in the ‘jects blastin’ music, f-ck all my neighbors
havin’ conversations with trigger bout b-tches and liquor
he told me go get the money and don’t get caught up with n-gg-s
blog sites be on me, watch how i talk to these n-gg-s
we was trappin’
break the package, split it all with my hittas
11.99, dimes light up a forest on n-gg-s
they ain’t east

- j r writer lyrics

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