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yn jay & yn que - pronto lyrics

[intro: yn que]
baby, i need it pr+nto
beat it up like a bongo
baby, i need you pr+nto (jerry, what the f+ck?)
beat it up like a bongo

[verse 1: yn que]
i need it pr+nto
i don’t want no more backwoods, i need a fronto
b+tch gave me head in the whip, i’m dodgin’ potholes
baby, why you doin’ that?
bring your freaky+ass over here, like, how you movin’ that?
i ain’t lookin’ for no d+mn relationship, b+tch, i’m through with that
yeah, but i can build with you
baby, let me be your ride or die, i wanna k!ll with you
five shots of remy for the night, i’m finna drill in you
love to hit you up on free time when i’m feelin’ you
baby say she got that waterfall, let me feel in you, hmm
i done really seen things
baby wanna f+ck with the gang ’cause we the dream team
i been pourin’ up wockesha, you sippin’ green lean
i might pop a bottle of champagne, doin’ my d+mn thang
got a bad b+tch, and she goin’ both ways
and she ain’t want for sh+t because we both paid

[verse 2: yn jay]
how the f+ck your feet dam— ahh
how the f+ck your feet so d+mn— ahh
how the f+ck your feet— d+mn
how the f+ck your feet so d+mn perfect? is your toes fake?
why the f+ck your face so d+mn long? is your nose fake?
why the f+ck your shoes got three g’s? is your clothes fake?
i just pulled a hundred thousand dollars out my old safe
finna buy a crib on stem lane, that’s my old place
i remember days when i was broke for my, aha, birthday, buy a old cake
used assault rifle, bought a old k
two+hundred+fifty+six+thousand in my old bank
white and gold bust down band with the rose face
bad b+tch, pretty+ass feet with the toes paint
b+tch compressin’ ass in the jeans but the— d+mn
b+tch compressin’ ass in the jeans but the ‘bows ain’t
tired of you dancin’ on my yeah but the pole ain’t
n+gga got a solid cubin on but the gold fake
you can scr+p his yeah off his r, it was gold paint
pull up in a b+tter pecan, it was all white
i just seen a bunch of p+ssy n+ggas, it was all dyk+s
i just beat a b+tch doonies down, it was all night
i just threw a jab seven times, it was all rights
i can’t open door for the police, it was all rights
i just pulled up doin’ wheelies, it was all bikes
pull up with a glock 23, it was all mikes
pull up from three, glock two+threes, it was all mikes
pull up with three glock two+threes, it was all mikes
(oh, you talkin’ ’bout like michael jordan? or you was talkin’ ’bout like)
(oh, you had the ehh and the yeah, and the ahh, sh+t)
ayy, had the ehh and the yeah, and the and ahh, sh+t
don’t put your hand on that stove, them some hot grits
i can tell she wanna f+ck, she got thot tits
i can tell she suck d+ck, she got thot lips
why your watch don’t tic+toc? it go toc+tic
i just broke in the game like locksmith
yeah, i’m thug life too, on my pac sh+t

- yn jay yn que lyrics

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