A.FM - YE (feat. Noesi)

I might just have to cut it or chop it or whatever
I think I'm dyslexic or something, I don't know
Wake up in the morning, thank God for the next day
Say what's up to my baby moms, shout out to my essays
Gotta treat the world like my first name was Jefe
Just for the bellete order the noodles al dente
She like how my neck laced with diamonds and neck chains
Shit so fucking heavy if I looked down my neck breaks
She a blood sucker, wanna know how my neck tastes
But see I'm a player so what's up with that head game
I won't be satisfied until I know that her neck's sprained
And she wearing a neck brace and it's off to the next dame
I'm expecting the same thing and it's on to the next bitch
Cause I'm stepping on necks bitch, fucking on your bitch
While she wearing my necklace, and if I get caught
Well I'm hopping them fences, pulling off in them Benzes
Bumps in the roads that will damaged suspension
Till I crash in the trenches, blowing out the new engine
V for Vendetta cause I am back with a vengeance
Gucci and Louis V, what did it do to me
Amplified my ego so beautifully
Getting fed grapes and cheese from boards of charcuterie
All of this is new to me, money, hoes and clothes
Can't forget the jewelry
Not satisfied till my life's like a movie scene
Lights, camera, action getting head in the Gucci mink
Little did I know I was fit for tomfoolery
Baby I'm back now, was once the class clown
Now I'm a class act, now who has the last laugh
Thought I had the bad luck, broken mirrors and black cats
Stepping on mad cracks, sorry moms for the bad back
Fuck it, well that's that, I'm spending some fast cash
Replacing my old hoes cause even the Lord knows
I had me a bad batch
Still getting paid for every week of the day
Oops I mean day of the week
Been around money so long it's the only language I speak
Certified hustler, can't sweat the technique
Yeah I'm a Don, last name Perrignon
Don't need your baggage like carry on, so carry on
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm a Don, last name Perrignon
Don't need your baggage like carry on, so carry on
Bitch, yeah, ayy
I got all this fucking swag I know you can't relate
Way too many people that I know gon' send me hate
And on this music shit you know I gotta dedicate
I'ma take my chance and trust me I won't hesitate
You just met up with the kid it's time to meet your fate
I'ma make sure that they send you to the pearly gates
Fucking with the wrong one I ain't come here to play
Hot headed young stunner can I ventilate
Let me demonstrate from the H let's get it straight
Getting bread's a piece of cake but I never learn to bake
Living fast, accelerate, don't tell me stop, can't hit the brakes
Can't give you much I only take, I keep it real, you keep it fake
I tell the truth for Christ sakes, I sip a lot, you lightweight
Go have yourself a nice day cause me and you are not the same, okay
Let's get it out the way, you know that boy Noesi
He didn't come to fucking play
You know I'm such a Taurus cause your boy was born in May
I'm off this fucking track, ain't nothing else left to say

Written by:
Andres Montoya, David Noesi

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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