letra de yellow tape - damjonboi
[intro: damjonboi]
(d. hill)
strong as h-ll
sh-t, hmm
[verse 1: damjonboi & drego]
all these b-tches on my d-ck, back then, they notice me
h-ll yeah, i got security, let you know before approachin’ me
i still pulled up with stick, can’t let these n-ggas say they smokin’ me
four thousand for this gucci jacket (woo), sh-t, it’s the coat for me
good hutch water ’round my neck (ice), d-mn, this b-tch bustin’
had to get back on my ratchet sh-t, sh-t, my fans left me
pull up in a red coupe (skrrt, skrrt), d-mn, this b-tch bl–dy
you ain’t gotta like this sh-t, mm-hmm, but your b-tch love me
n-gga, i’ll drop some paper on a n-gga so fast
put some more on his people, thеy gon’ k!ll him so fast
sh-t, my young n-ggas be hittin’ sh-t, they slidin’ on mopegs
you gon’ pull up with that skrilla, b-tch, thеn we on your ass
my b-tch trippin’, baby mama too, sh-t, they both mad
lame n-ggas tryna throw shots, but i can’t hear they broke ass
n-gga, f-ck these hoes, get your paper up
and i know you love your n-ggas, but you can’t wait for them
go and get that bag, then come back and drop some pape’ on them (real sh-t)
all i did was show the way, how you gon’ hate on him (how the f-ck?)
kim kardashian me a n-gga, yellow tapin’ him
that boy can’t come to the hood ’cause it ain’t save in there (boy, man)
[verse 2: drego]
i got heroin, i got meth, come shop at h&m (come shop at h&m)
i got n-ggas right off manning, but it ain’t peyton and them (but it ain’t peyton and them)
bet them n-ggas claim they realin’ ’til you really need ’em
i play the field just like madden, you could call me steven
b-tch, my trap raw, got crack rock for low, boy, if you need it
they hit your hat just like a rabbi just for this lil’ feefer
all this rappin’, trappin’ to cappin’ gon’ get me rich, though, i can see it
i’m just coppin’, cookin’ to tax it, man, this sh-t get way too easy
too many of these n-ggas tender, i know that you see it
he know i f-cked his b-tch, he listen to keyshia cole, i should’ve cheated
lay low in the winter, turn up me and [?]
i’m all in the kitchen, n-gga, whippin’ up me a fetus
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