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letra de supër test - yeat

[intro]
diamonds came in, it’s an avalanche, yeah
somebody call up an ambulance, yeah
lotta mud, lotta mud, lotta mud, lotta-, yeah
lotta mud, lotta mud
(yeah)
let’s go

[chorus]
diamonds not real, you can test ’em (test)
foot on the gas in this corvette, i’m pushing 100 and yeah, i can’t let up, yeah
we don’t play ’round, you can test ’em (yuh)
got your lil’ thot riding us, she over here sucking d-ck and taking tesla’s, too geeked
swear to god, they send the best sl-ts (too geeked)
who is that kid, never heard of ’em? (ooh)
how the f-ck did that jit go convertible?
yeah, hundrеds on hundreds
hundreds on hundr- it’s a whole lotta mud
i ain’t running from it (mud)
i ain’t running from it, you can tеst your luck (go ahead, test your luck)
yeah[?]
all black cdg sweater weather
no, please, i only want the top, yeah, i only want the header, it’s better
yeah, i’m with the palm angels, literally (header, it’s better)
yeah, i’m with the balmain leather
all this drip, it came from italy (balmain leather)
i don’t get diamonds from tiffany
eliantte, o, x, y, i’m missing my ho (eliantte)
it, don’t ask why tiffany f-cked, ooh (it)
[verse]
you are not sipping on act’-act’
[?]
only ten bands, and i know how to act
b-tch, what do i want, yeah, the ‘pat or the ‘cat?
yes, i get geeked everyday, not a stress
yeah, i done forgot to react
i chase the p-ssy just tryna to get a reaction
i’m working less
they told me it’s too much bread in my account, gotta retract some, yeah (finna’ go turn the b-tch up)
i be in dover street market, i don’t shop at no pacsun, yeah
yeah, y’all late to all of this sh-t, yeah, you still on the ps1
i’m packing these diamonds, they hit in the middle of the night, man, these b-tches, them vs1 (vs1)
i got my twizzy, i told him we did it, i told him it’s up, yeah, it’s done (up, up)
i’m addicted to stacking my riches and f-cking these b-tches, not asking who won, yeah (f)
and i don’t care if you wanna f-ck with it, rock with it, yeah, you not the one (b-tch)
keep your mouth shut, you talking too much, you chapping a gun (let’s go)

- yeat

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