YeaYea

(Calm down, I'll just call Robert)
([?])

[Verse 1: ljp2900]
Eh, yea yea, yea yea
Yea yea, yea yea, eh
In this bitch I'm counting money, counting money, counting bread yeah
And its kinda funny, got 10 hoes in my bed yeah
And my nose runny like I'm running from the feds yeah
Sitting in the trap, the trap—
Bitch talking bout—what she saying?, yeah
And I been blacked out in your bitch bed
Yea yea, yea yea
Ye yea yea, yea yea

[Verse 2: lil checkers]
Okay, I'm like yea
Ask me if I get the money, you know I say, "Yea"
[?] while I'm counting up the racks
[?] mix n match
[?] always what I'm wearing what I'm wearing is all black
[?]
Got some shooters on the payroll and now you on their mac
Dripping out my McLaren, got you 80 on the dash
Really hate my life said, "Fuck it", I might fuck around and crash
And in college, be my year or it might just be my last
And the THC, the G-force, we believe we ready to blast
[?] cop a brand new mac
I'm always first place to the racks but boy you always coming last

[Verse 3: Fabiio Faii]
Ho stay mad
Bitch, I'm not your dad
Bitch don't call me that
Boy you getting [?]
Yeah she into that
She said she love my [?]
Stick in in her ass
But her tits are hella flat
I can't fuck with that
So I kick her to the path
Gotta stay strapped with the gas pack
Smokin' out the gas pack
Posted on the Snapchat
Little boy your mom passed
Walk in with a face tat
Where the fuck your mace at?
Where the fuck your place at?
[?]
[?] rain
[?]
Red and blue in your fucking brain
[?]
[?]
Stupid ho leave me alone
Is it because of my cologne?
I got 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 pics of your momma's ass
I got 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 tacticals in my bag
I got 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 hoes that are try'na shag
I got 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 [?]