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letra de ya! - fiction fake

(intro) –
ya!, ya!, ya! ya!
ya!, ya!, ya! ya!
what, ya, what, ya

(verse 1) –
winnin’ the race like a victory lap
choppa on me so we sprayin’ back
b-tch, i got sauce like it’s hickory jack
took a break and you got caught in the act
i cannot go, yeah the goonies, they with me
f-ckin’ your b-tch and i’m touchin’ her kindey
2 times 30, now that’s a perc 60
hoes from last week comin’ back ’cause they miss me
try to take mine and i’m takin’ your biddie
body for body, we runnin’ your city
run up the racks, i don’t need to get jiggy
don’t wanna f-ck , but i’m touchin’ her kitty
enter your house, i’m like “h-llo”
run on the track, i got tempo
you n-ggas jello
shoot up your shot so i’m robert dinero
this is not halo b-tch, you need to stay low
chop with a stock, it’s gon’ blast
blast to the past
boy, i’m just bustin’ your ass
i hope it’s thusday ’cause she throw it back
i’m makin’ that heat, you not turnin’ the track
i keep the sticks like i’m black
ice on my t–th and it look like some plaque
f-ckin’ your thot is my knack
goin’ so hard this year n-gga, i cannot slack
throwin’ some bands in the air, i’m not bluffin’
go to the bank and withdraw b-tch, it’s nothin’
drivin’ the whip, you can’t hop in my car
i sip lean and pop pills with your mom
turn up 100, i turn up the heat
these b-tches love 2 things, sosa and me
dumpin’ the clip like a cheetah
she make it twirl, ballerina
hittin’ the south like katrina
[?] a fever
i call em’ [?] like the reaper
i got the drip like a leaker
this sh-t you can learn here, i’ll be your teacher
give em’ a sermon, no preacher
these b-tches tell em’ get out of my way
lookin’ for opps tryna smoke up today
boy, you not rich please don’t look at my j’s
ice on my neck every day, i go skate
flexin’ my wealth boy, i got a big check
she’s just a thotty girl, you is no princess
you just an ugly ass thotty that’s ridin’ my d-ck ’cause you know fiction fake, that n-gga, he gettin’ bands
i spent a grand right up on this fit, n-ggas not with this
wearin’ off-brand
i took a time with the plan
plottin’ on me is like steppin’ right on some quicksand
(hook) –
ice on my neck, i got chills
f-ck on your thot, yes, i will
there’s something i gotta fulfill
if you text me again, then i swear i’ma k!ll
i swear to god, i do not need her
stayin’ single, i am a cheater
your baby momma is a tweaker
pop me a pill and we’s tryna get reefa
hittin’ your girl from the back
blue cheese [?]
don’t talk to me, i’m in my bag
spend me a band, and then make it right back
i see my old hoes they jealous
bought myself gucci margiela
you gotta say something to tell us
i’m with my n-ggas, i’m not with the fellas

(verse 2) –
you hear the melody blearin’
you know she countin’ this p-ssy, she sharin’
i’m ’boutta go on the top, i’m not airin’
i got the feeling and this is no [?]
i took some cash right out of the bank
don’t drive in the truck, i ride in the tank
as soon as she saw me, i bet that she feint
just like i’m [?] your sh-t that i take
i say “ya” ’cause i know that i’m lit
look what i wear, you know it’s legit
don’t eat her out ’cause that p-ssy be sick and just like my old hoes, that p-ssy don’t stink
she on my ass like mof-ckin’ tick
who want the smoke, you get hit with a bl!ck
spend me a band, put my ice on my wrist
test me again, you gon’ cease to exist
d-mn, who the f-ck these n-ggas wanna be?
they watch what i do ’cause they wannabes
all these n-ggas i’m f-ckin’ gonna beat
n-ggas doubted me, don’t know i’m gonna be
walk on these boys, swear i run em’ down
extended the clip, got 100 rounds
when you come at me boy, stop talkin’ down
she double the cup, next minute she knockin’ out
they switch on me so fast
b-tch got a backwood on her ass
come in your house, covid mask
show you the dm’s, i know that she ask
i’m saying “yea, i’m on top”
countin’ the green, i got guap
all the guns you got are props
i get a n-gga wacked right on the spot
(hook) –
ice on my neck, i got chills
f-ck on your thot, yes, i will
there’s something i gotta fulfill
if you text me again, then i swear i’ma k!ll
i swear to god, i do not need her
stayin’ single, i am a cheater
your baby momma is a tweaker
pop me a pill and we’s tryna get reefa
hittin’ your girl from the back
blue cheese [?]
don’t talk to me, i’m in my bag
spend me a band, and then make it right back
i see my old hoes they jealous
bought myself gucci margiela
you gotta say something to tell us
i’m with my n-ggas, i’m not with the fellas

- fiction fake

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