latelatekuro - yeehhh lyrics
[intro]
hey
yeah, yeah-yeah
putemn-ggazinatrashcan yeah
yeah, ay
huh hol up, yeah
turn me, hol up, hol up, yeah
hol up, turn me up, yeah, hol up, hol up, yeah, yeah
[hook]
put dem n-ggas in a trash can, yeah
no competin, no rap friends, yeah
i be murkin, f-ck a casket, yeah
n-gga really really bout dat, yeah
put dem n-ggas in a trash can, yeah
no competin, no rap friends, yeah
i be murkin, f-ck a casket, yeah
n-gga really really bout dat, yeah
[verse 1]
i be murkin f-ck a casket yeh (yeah)
i be lurkin for some wild s-x yeh (yeaah)
ain’t n0body really bout dat noh no, (hm hm)
am i dreaming issa snapback ? oh god (d-mn)
(where yall n-ggas been at ?) (tell me)
gym and clubbin i be flexin yeh (flex)
what yall n-ggas needin ? (huh!)
money, weed, and, women, got that, okay
well done-gone and get yours godd-mn, man (d-mn)
ay
what’s brackin homie tell me ? (tell me)
sellin crack for tommy’s (ay)
you gotta make your money (all day)
now errbody on it (see)
b-tches vultures zonin (yay)
still get cheese macaroni (rain)
and anybody eyes on it, impossible to con me (nope)
i be juggin, kony (sick)
and makin moves like biggie
got body like biggie, got cash that’s gettin
that’s payment for k!llin, and bleedin (ugh)
sh-ts sounds like i’m bangin, but really i’m steady just gonna
[hook]
put dem n-ggas in a trash can, yeah
no competin, no rap friends, yeah
i be murkin, f-ck a casket, yeah
n-gga really really bout dat, yeah
put dem n-ggas in a trash can, yeah
no competin, no rap friends, yeah
i be murkin, f-ck a casket, yeah
n-gga really really bout dat, yeah
[verse 2]
ay back back, n-ggas tryna catch that (yanw?)
faded of the cognac, n-ggas better watch out (yanw?)
p-ssy n-ggas back back, cause my crew just cashin out
b-tches dig us like the rat pack, kids about to wildn out (d-mn!)
oh god (d-mn)
why yall hoes tryna kiss me, i’m stay swervin (swerve)
matter fact tell me
what yo hoe doin uup on thursday
makin backflips off the sofas
poppin molly died eyes
she lookin thirsty
yeah
yeah
you know yo hoe be
be lookin thirsty
prolly cause
the tag on the backpack
cause the drugs in the nap sack
d-mn
still wonder why yo b-tch groove n-gga ? huh ? (hmm)
zidane with the spin move n-gga godd-mn (whooh)
mats hummels with the tackle n-gga yeah (yeah yeah)
i be murkin glitches f-ck a drumset yeah
[outro]
f-ck a drumset, beats sound like back scratches
f-ck a drunk text, bae that’s only back stabbing
f-ck a long s-x, b-tch ain’t worth a sweat
f-ck a rhum sec, liver already apoptosised
f-ckin bad breath, baby got breast
gettin no rest from my wildness
ain’t left nun left, stay til my death
aim at da head, what’s the omen ? golden casket ?
guess it’s okay, f-k i’m gon say ?
well, yeehhh yeehhh, yeah
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