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yc - i know lyrics

i saw my… cause i know
what you gonna.. cause i know…
i know! (x9)

[hook: yc]
i’m fresh as h-ll i know
got kush in my pockets i know
ice on my shirts i know
horseshoes on my pockets i know
got racks in my jeans i know
got a campaign yea i know
your girl wanna smash i know
she a bad b-tch yeah i know
horseshoes on her pockets i know
keep a bag on her arm i know
all my b-tches oughta know
i know (x12)

[verse 1: yc]
boy it ain’t black ice i know
40 grand on my neck i know
big rocks in my watch i know
buy every pair of trues in the store
louis, gucci, bally, got every air i know
that coupe don’t make no sense
it ain’t got no brain no more
that girl ain’t your no more
lookin’ for a couple racks i know
got every louis bag
yeah, i bought ‘em yeah i know
she like to call her friends and brag
what you think i did it fo’?
i know, i know, yeah i let her know!

[hook: yc]
i’m fresh as h-ll i know
got kush in my pockets i know
ice on my shirt i know
horseshoes on my pockets i know
got lean in my cup i know
got racks in my jeans i know
got a campaign yeah yeah i know
your girl wanna smash i know
horseshoes on her pockets i know
keep a bag on her arm i know
all my b-tches oughta know
(ace hood!) i know (x12)

[verse 2: ace hood]
ok yeah real n-gga yeah i know
hundred grand on a whip, i blow
slid in a benzo, b-tch i’m an n4
10-4 with some hoes
n-gga i’ll get low, this n-gga bout dough, so sick my flow i know
ain’t f-ckin with a b-tch can’t go
how bout on my neck gon’ glow
still stuntin on you n-ggas i know
red bottoms on my toes
60’s on my chevy, that’s just how i flow
got a pistol on my waist
shoot her like i’m wade
all white panama, european suade
yeah i do this sh-t i know
too fly, i’m high, you low
you love that b-tch, i don’t
hit it up and a n-gga get ghost
i just give her that good, keep it all the way hood
do-do some out the door
this ysl, lauderdale, ask yo b-tch to hide or tell

[verse 3: yc]
i’m fly as f-ck i know
blew the brains on my b-ss i know
rocks trues or robins
girl you already know
that girl don’t wanna smash
well girl you gotta go
get the f-ck outta here
and don’t you call my phone no more (don’t call)
all i hit is dimes
get spins all the time
i’m on so many drugs
done loss my god d-mn mind
800 on the kicks
400 on the jeans
that’s a stack gone b-tch
money ain’t a thing

- yc lyrics

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