We f*ck every week
She ain't my bitch clearly
Die bout my respect, hold on that shit dearly
Know it's in they head these niggas tryna kill me
Cause i'm on shit that they ain't on
And they too fraud to feel me
(Uh)
Made a bag off Pro Tools that shit start to fill it
808s got wham, you hear shit cross the building
And this bitch got ass you know i'm tryna feel it
In my pocket like three magnums, know i'm tryna kill shit
Niggas be all on the gram tryna politic
Nah I ain't into that (Ay)
Yo bitch been over here talking bout wedding rings
I gotta send her back
(Ay, Uh)
Know i'm a speed racer
Like I was in a Jag
Contraband in the back
Niggas be really cap
I cannot tell a lie, i'm only speaking facts
He ain't my homie
If he got some beef he can pull up and show me
Bitches like gold teeth and that's one of the reasons I got em right on me
A better lifestyle I need that right now
I remember cheese and bologna
She got that Remy in, My Little Pony
We got them pounds on the way back to Florida
Clearly (Interlude) Video (MV)
Yvngshad - Clearly (Interlude) Lyrics
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We f*ck every week
She ain't my bitch clearly
Die bout my respect, hold on that shit dearly
Know it's in they head these niggas tryna kill me
Cause i'm on shit that they ain't on
And they too fraud to feel me
(Uh)
Made a bag off Pro Tools that shit start to fill it
808s got wham, you hear shit cross the building
And this bitch got ass you know i'm tryna feel it
In my pocket like three magnums, know i'm tryna kill shit
Niggas be all on the gram tryna politic
Nah I ain't into that (Ay)
Yo bitch been over here talking bout wedding rings
I gotta send her back
(Ay, Uh)
Know i'm a speed racer
Like I was in a Jag
Contraband in the back
Niggas be really cap
I cannot tell a lie, i'm only speaking facts
He ain't my homie
If he got some beef he can pull up and show me
Bitches like gold teeth and that's one of the reasons I got em right on me
A better lifestyle I need that right now
I remember cheese and bologna
She got that Remy in, My Little Pony
We got them pounds on the way back to Florida
She ain't my bitch clearly
Die bout my respect, hold on that shit dearly
Know it's in they head these niggas tryna kill me
Cause i'm on shit that they ain't on
And they too fraud to feel me
(Uh)
Made a bag off Pro Tools that shit start to fill it
808s got wham, you hear shit cross the building
And this bitch got ass you know i'm tryna feel it
In my pocket like three magnums, know i'm tryna kill shit
Niggas be all on the gram tryna politic
Nah I ain't into that (Ay)
Yo bitch been over here talking bout wedding rings
I gotta send her back
(Ay, Uh)
Know i'm a speed racer
Like I was in a Jag
Contraband in the back
Niggas be really cap
I cannot tell a lie, i'm only speaking facts
He ain't my homie
If he got some beef he can pull up and show me
Bitches like gold teeth and that's one of the reasons I got em right on me
A better lifestyle I need that right now
I remember cheese and bologna
She got that Remy in, My Little Pony
We got them pounds on the way back to Florida
Writer: Roshad Reid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid