Let's do it, mm, mm, mm, mm, mm, mm, mm, mm, Mm, mm DC Movo, let's do it Twi I got money, Tryna
See what the f*ck goin on with you people Look a Nigga up and the police come in with
My grandma staying I got money for her shoes, pussy, I was tryna
Lose And I got four-four tryna stick some when we
Come I got money, I got money and she got the Bag
And I got to say, My youngest dead wrong off the South, that stupid boy tryna catch me in the north That nigga know how we living in the east, pussy
Boy tryna jump, he weak, three hundred, tryna Jump me, them five-five-six tryna jump, doo-doo
I'm tryna see what the f*ck going on, money Sounding like a bitch
You know I got cases linked, code signed, tryna See
Hundred round drac, put a nigga on the toast, that Nigga sound sweet, I don't f*ck with
A nigga, Kent, Manhattan, I go to the stove, nigga Waste his time, toe-to-toe with that
Rod Get on top, then I hit with that Mack, hit
From the back and I know that she like it, nigga be Playing but I stay with my rod
Hundred round drac , put a nigga on the toast, she Argue with me but my rod
Had to tell her stop, she don't like how I reach my Rod
Twenty-five K, just buy her channel bag , f*ck Round , then I lost my airbag
I stand on that, f*ck it, Chris, probably won't
F*ck with Ron, then I knock on the door, nigga Playing shoot a stick at the door
Had to tell the f*cker, give me that throat, she Like, man, hol' up, let me hit the store
Then I'll cry, hol' up, I be in that parking lot
Ain't no scope before I f*ck it up, hit the brake, Then I drop out the car
Hol' up, clock it back, then I swang it, yeah
Reach for my chain, you can hit with that long
Got a 4-5 in the backseat with a Glock
Nigga be playing, you can hit with that mop
Riding, riding in the Maybach, yeah
Got money, trying to see what the f*ck going on With these people
Look at nigga, ooh, then the police come in with My grandma's stick
L got money for her shoe, pussy, I was trying to Lose
And I got 4-4, trying to stick some when we come Out
Ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
JAY BOY Video (MV)
BDT youngin - JAY BOY Lyrics
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Let's do it, mm, mm, mm, mm, mm, mm, mm, mm, Mm, mm DC Movo, let's do it Twi I got money, Tryna
See what the f*ck goin on with you people Look a Nigga up and the police come in with
My grandma staying I got money for her shoes, pussy, I was tryna
Lose And I got four-four tryna stick some when we
Come I got money, I got money and she got the Bag
And I got to say, My youngest dead wrong off the South, that stupid boy tryna catch me in the north That nigga know how we living in the east, pussy
Boy tryna jump, he weak, three hundred, tryna Jump me, them five-five-six tryna jump, doo-doo
I'm tryna see what the f*ck going on, money Sounding like a bitch
You know I got cases linked, code signed, tryna See
Hundred round drac, put a nigga on the toast, that Nigga sound sweet, I don't f*ck with
A nigga, Kent, Manhattan, I go to the stove, nigga Waste his time, toe-to-toe with that
Rod Get on top, then I hit with that Mack, hit
From the back and I know that she like it, nigga be Playing but I stay with my rod
Hundred round drac , put a nigga on the toast, she Argue with me but my rod
Had to tell her stop, she don't like how I reach my Rod
Twenty-five K, just buy her channel bag , f*ck Round , then I lost my airbag
I stand on that, f*ck it, Chris, probably won't
F*ck with Ron, then I knock on the door, nigga Playing shoot a stick at the door
Had to tell the f*cker, give me that throat, she Like, man, hol' up, let me hit the store
Then I'll cry, hol' up, I be in that parking lot
Ain't no scope before I f*ck it up, hit the brake, Then I drop out the car
Hol' up, clock it back, then I swang it, yeah
Reach for my chain, you can hit with that long
Got a 4-5 in the backseat with a Glock
Nigga be playing, you can hit with that mop
Riding, riding in the Maybach, yeah
Got money, trying to see what the f*ck going on With these people
Look at nigga, ooh, then the police come in with My grandma's stick
L got money for her shoe, pussy, I was trying to Lose
And I got 4-4, trying to stick some when we come Out
Ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
See what the f*ck goin on with you people Look a Nigga up and the police come in with
My grandma staying I got money for her shoes, pussy, I was tryna
Lose And I got four-four tryna stick some when we
Come I got money, I got money and she got the Bag
And I got to say, My youngest dead wrong off the South, that stupid boy tryna catch me in the north That nigga know how we living in the east, pussy
Boy tryna jump, he weak, three hundred, tryna Jump me, them five-five-six tryna jump, doo-doo
I'm tryna see what the f*ck going on, money Sounding like a bitch
You know I got cases linked, code signed, tryna See
Hundred round drac, put a nigga on the toast, that Nigga sound sweet, I don't f*ck with
A nigga, Kent, Manhattan, I go to the stove, nigga Waste his time, toe-to-toe with that
Rod Get on top, then I hit with that Mack, hit
From the back and I know that she like it, nigga be Playing but I stay with my rod
Hundred round drac , put a nigga on the toast, she Argue with me but my rod
Had to tell her stop, she don't like how I reach my Rod
Twenty-five K, just buy her channel bag , f*ck Round , then I lost my airbag
I stand on that, f*ck it, Chris, probably won't
F*ck with Ron, then I knock on the door, nigga Playing shoot a stick at the door
Had to tell the f*cker, give me that throat, she Like, man, hol' up, let me hit the store
Then I'll cry, hol' up, I be in that parking lot
Ain't no scope before I f*ck it up, hit the brake, Then I drop out the car
Hol' up, clock it back, then I swang it, yeah
Reach for my chain, you can hit with that long
Got a 4-5 in the backseat with a Glock
Nigga be playing, you can hit with that mop
Riding, riding in the Maybach, yeah
Got money, trying to see what the f*ck going on With these people
Look at nigga, ooh, then the police come in with My grandma's stick
L got money for her shoe, pussy, I was trying to Lose
And I got 4-4, trying to stick some when we come Out
Ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
Writer: Jamarian Lewis
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid