young dro – fdb lyrics
[hook: young dro]
west side, bankhead, is where i’m from
everything y’all did has been done
my true game and my shoe game
you can’t touch that sh-t
a b-tch that holler ’bout “f-ck me?”
nah, f-ck that b-tch
f-ck that b-tch, f-ck that b-tch
a b-tch that holler ’bout “f-ck me?”
nah, f-ck that b-tch
f-ck that b-tch, f-ck that b-tch
a b-tch that holler ’bout “f-ck me?”
nah, f-ck that b-tch
[verse 1: young dro]
three – what you wanna do here?
b-tch, i’m a float like root beer
still workin’ on gettin’ the coupe cleared
you ain’t got none of my shoe gear
red on the bottom, right, that’s red
shorty, she a mother? she hairy
b-tch you ugly and b-tch you ugly
and both y’all hoes look scary
i don’t wanna get married
chick, you a bird – perry
all eatin’ so good, these hoes like
“boys, you’re gettin’ fat, eat salad”
i’m ridin’ round and i’m gettin’ it in with no blanket
got your main b-tch on my d-ck sh-t, she, ain’t messin’
her hips fat, i seen her walk past, i’m like “sh-t”
she seeing my automobile, she tried to push that, i said “b-tch”
i bang hoes, ridin’ in a drop top range rove
i train hoes, i’m a pimp, trinidad james clothes
[hook: young dro]
west side, bankhead, is where i’m from
everything y’all did has been done
my true game and my shoe game
you can’t touch that sh-t
a b-tch that holler ’bout “f-ck me?”
nah, f-ck that b-tch
f-ck that b-tch, f-ck that b-tch
a b-tch that holler ’bout “f-ck me?”
nah, f-ck that b-tch
f-ck that b-tch, f-ck that b-tch
a b-tch that holler ’bout “f-ck me?”
nah, f-ck that b-tch
[verse 2: young dro]
three – fdb man – fly like l-train
me and e-louie’s got checkerboards on
you ain’t got that pair, man
with my fdb clique – 33 deep sh-t
you tell that b-tch, man, f-ck that hoe
i ain’t startin’ that sh-t, trick
six for a birdbath – b-tch, where’s your skirt at?
ah, i like it, blowin’ that kush on you like purp packs
y’all n-gg-s so wack… and b-tch you so green
i pull up on the scene in the green celine
yeah n-gg-, i’m too clean
westside, what’s upper? y’all n-gg-s my supper
f-ck that b-tch ‘fore i do that sh-t
i might need me a rubber
belly on rotund – one whip, four guns
if you see the baby mamma, holler:
“f-ck that b-tch, that hoe ain’t no one”
[hook: young dro]
west side, bankhead, is where i’m from
everything y’all did has been done
my true game and my shoe game
you can’t touch that sh-t
a b-tch that holler ’bout “f-ck me?”
nah, f-ck that b-tch
f-ck that b-tch, f-ck that b-tch
a b-tch that holler ’bout “f-ck me?”
nah, f-ck that b-tch
f-ck that b-tch, f-ck that b-tch
a b-tch that holler ’bout “f-ck me?”
nah, f-ck that b-tch
west side, bankhead, is where i’m from
everything y’all did has been done
my true game and my shoe game
you can’t touch that sh-t
a b-tch that holler ’bout “f-ck me?”
nah, f-ck that b-tch
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