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letra de yeern 101 - schoolboy q

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like d-mn wop, how i get a b-tch like yeern?
i′m a drop-top n-gga ’cause the sun won′t burn
wanna live like guap but the stripes ain’t earned

i’ma get it right now, i ain′t waitin′ no turn
got a brand-new house, tryna avoid my hurt
’bout six point somethin′ in the field like church
heard the hood got whacked, and the set went turn
got a four-eight-eight in the glide like curt

i’ve been livin′ off golf for the last few deals
when the nike check came and i still got chills
hit a 2k l!ck, i ain’t even go pro
gotta boss la, now i′m smellin’ like goat
call me ice cube baby, when they sit on my chain
heard a lame ass n-gga tryna play with my name
on them 23 tour and i’m goin′ no brain

goin′ dumb with these hundreds, now my thumb got stained
i’m a n-gga out here, everything come free
i ain′t never met god, but i bet he know me
put your money in the set, a n-gga die in them streets
threw the boy alley hoopin’, now he ridin′ on fleek (shoo)
got a porch light skin and the ceilin’ got peeled
i was twenty plus young when this sh-t got real
young black boy runnin′, got me out of that field

made a livin’ off game, you should get it on film
i ain’t never your kind, late but i′m really on time
girl, what you put in your mind, i ain′t diggin’ your sign
truth, but that p-ssy ain′t mine, hurt, but i made it out fine
still in my prime, broke n-gga, really out lyin’
talk like he tony hawk, grind throwin′ 20 on a nine
n-gga how you live with no spine? broke n-gga better off dyin’

man, you n-ggas got nerve, broke ass, need to get a bird
f-ck it, i′ma get it off first, from the way you ain’t surf
you b-tch n-ggas lookin’ all hurt, funny ′til your ego got nerfed
boy done made it all worse, woke up, lookin′ like “word?”
one-fifty lay on my shirt, twenty lay on my t–th
boy, i make a m in my sleep, everything i want in my reach

i’ma run it off tops, wonder where i′ve been? i’ve been pullin′ off lots
fo’ 54, i′ma keep it on stock
cognac bezel with the ticker on rocks
figg side n-gga, tell me what i ain’t got
get it right now where i got it back then
number one stunna with the love of my–

raised by the gang with a mill’ like philly
with the watch, two-fifty and a b-tch so– (blue)
(shoo)
uh
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
yeah, uh
(shoo)

when the door got closed, i ain′t feel too bad
i′ma run mine up, i’ma have some stashed
now you in a broad purse, boy you goin′ out sad
now you wanna couch-surf and you keep a little rat
n-gga livin’ out his backpack, need to get a bag
got a gray double r and it need both lanes
got a dollar to his name, but he all gang-gang
but he all on my d-ck, and i find that strange

keep playin′ with the fire, but his ass get burned
bet your boy got split when the light got turned
got his head all cracked, but the boy won’t learn
big racked up shawty when the block gets served
n-ggas always sorry when the cap don′t work
got the b-tterfly doors and they fly like bird
bet i love my b-tch, but i ain’t them nerd
like d-mn wop, how i get a b-tch like yeern?

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