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Yea Yea

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Lirik
Blanco (Ki-ki-ki, ki)

Without a doubt I get that work in the drought

You know it's blood in, blood out

This ain't no joke, if you run up, you get smoked

Or catch a blade and get poked

The streets got no hope, if you scared, pray to the Pope (Ah)

Family fed by the dope

If you ain't lived it, you won't understand me

Banana boat with them packs in Miami (Ayy, five-trey-five)

I get 'em and go, cartel ties on the low

DEA knocked on my door then deported my pop

I wonder who gave 'em the drop

When I find out, he get popped (Boom, boom)

My 'yotes gon' slide, when they do, you won't survive

Like Popeyes, we leavin' 'em fried (Grrah)

Don't play with my bread, if you ain't heard what I said

Then we go off with his head, oh yeah-yeah

Snuck through the back with the yeah-yeah

You know we got packs of the yeah-yeah

Big t**s, but was better as a yeah-yeah

You more like "No", I'm like "Yeah, yeah"

My 'yote got locked for the yeah-yeah

Bail him out, I got stacks of the yeah-yeah

New foreign, I'ma pull up in that, yeah, yeah

Catch me at the top, oh yeah, yeah

Blueface, baby (Yeah, yeah), yeah, aight

Gotta keep a chopstick in my chop (Yeah, yeah)

I just copped a house bigger than the cops in the suburbs

I'm the only n**a on my block (Yeah, yeah)

Never leave the house without that yeah-yeah

Forty knockin' off Gucci headbands (Ooh)

It's not regular, baby, these is baguette-'guettes

Million dollar views and some Moët get her more wet, uh (Ayy, five-trey-five)

Catch me at the top gettin' top (Ooh)

She know I ain't shit, but she still gon' bop (Yeah, yeah)

Pull up, drippin' in the drop (Ooh)

Reach for my chain and you niggas gettin' popped (Yeah, yeah)

Snuck through the back with the yeah-yeah

You know we got packs of the yeah-yeah

Big t**s, but was better as a yeah-yeah

You more like "No", I'm like "Yeah, yeah"

My 'yote got locked for the yeah-yeah

Bail him out, I got stacks of the yeah-yeah

New foreign, I'ma pull up in that, yeah, yeah

Catch me at the top, oh yeah, yeah

I'm strapped in this b**h, peep how I walk like I'm Mitch

I already drank me a fifth (Ooh)

I hop in the whip, my 'yote extended the clip (Brr)

I promise my shooters don't miss

Don't talk to the feds, got blood on my Nike Cortez (Huh)

From kickin' and stompin' on heads (Boom)

The lady look guap', I ain't waste my time on no thot

Can't blame her for shootin' her shot, like "Yeah, yeah" (Ooh, ayy, five-trey-five)

Shawty in the bathroom doin' yeah-yeah

You want the drama, then the homie got the yeah-yeah

In the back you know I got a lot of yeah-yeah

I know you claim you got the same, homie, yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah)

You like "Mr. Me Too", part two

Whatever I say I have, you say you got, too

Like, homie yeah, yeah, so get the f**k from 'round me

My 'yotes in this b**h, please don't get them rowdy, yeah

Snuck through the back with the yeah-yeah

You know we got packs of the yeah-yeah

Big t**s, but was better as a yeah-yeah

You more like "No", I'm like "Yeah, yeah"

My 'yote got locked for the yeah-yeah

Bail him out, I got stacks of the yeah-yeah

New foreign, I'ma pull up in that, yeah, yeah

Catch me at the top, oh yeah, yeah