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yung fabi aka fabi babi - master lyrics

[interlude:]

[prod. by kyber:]

[intro:]
aye
b-tch imma master
ain’t no book (hol up)
-laughs-
never read no book (b-tch imma master)
i’m blowin this money like i’m casper (wut wut wut)
i ain’t read no book; read a chapter (chapter book)
-laughs-
now hol up, hol up, hol up, aye

[hook:]
b-tch imma master
i run from my hoes and they try running faster
f-ck with my fam?; that’s disaster
i’m preachin’, i’m preachin’ just like imma pastor
boy do not test me
i’m drippin’ my sauce; that’s my recipe (sauce)
all got all these hoes on my phone
and i got like 5 farting right next to me (wait hol up)

[verse 1:]
minding my business, i’m sippin’ on tea
you are not woke if you sleeping on me
yes i’m allergic to l’s; imma sneeze
pull up 3 yards man this sh-t is a breeze
latinas they have my attention
do not have bars but we have a connection
i have so much women i have a collection
they love me so much i swear it’s an obsession

[bridge:]
obsessed, obsessed
all of these chicks in my nest
they answer me just like a test (huuaa)

[verse 2:]
she had her hand on my chest (ok ok ok)
i had my hand on her breast (b00bies!)
d-mn they look just like balloons!
she said i look good in maroon
i took her -ss straight to the room
d-mn i am next; and i know that i’m next
hol up wait a min look at my check
people don’t trust me so i gotta prove it
got a latina i love how she move it
people still hate me i do not know why?
don’t really care it’s not like i’m gon die
cash coming in d-mn, i’m not gonna lie
lookin’ so fly d-mn i feel like a fly (birdie!)

[bridge]
fly, hol up, fly, hol up
d-mn i think that i’m a bird (aye)

[verse 3:]
all of these hoes wanna flirt (uh oh)
i just spilled sauce on my shirt (oh sh-t)
got so much cash that they think i’m a plug
they always would hate but now they want more than hugs
sorry, i’m gon sleep in the lobby
come back when you wake up on fabi

[hook:]
b-tch i’m a master
i run from my hoes and they try running faster
f-ck with my fam?; that’s disaster
i’m preachin’, i’m preachin’ just like imma pastor
boy do not test me
i’m drippin’ my sauce; that’s my recipe
all got all these hoes on my phone
and i got like 5 farting right next to me

[outro:]
-laughs-
yung fabi
versatilee

- yung fabi aka fabi babi lyrics

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