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letra de bitch yeah - youngboy never broke again

[intro]
(timmy da hitman)
huh, what?
what? what? what? what? what?
what? what?

[verse 1]
what’s crackin’? what? (what?)
or whatever i’m brackin’ on, b-tch
yeah, that my blood (that my blood), i got all fives ’round this b-tch
these hoes wan’ f-ck, these n-ggas can’t f-ck with none of us in this b-tch
i’ma hit at your clique with the stick (baow)
make me turn your lil’ boys to a l!ck (a l!ck)
i got stripper big booty b-tches blowin’ up on my phone
too much swag, stylist come, i try on clothes inside of my home
put yo’ b-tch in vlone
b-tch, play what you please long as you don’t put no qc on
b-tch, i make you bleed, ho
b-tch, i know i bleed, ho
bang a red, five, big b, ho (h-ll, yeah)
b-tch, get on your knees, ho (yeah, yeah)
come on, suck it with no t–th, ho (yeah, yeah, yeah)
i’m rich, i’m rich, i’m rich, b-tch, i’m rich as sh-t
come get it, got her wit’ it
know i got her wit’ me, n-gga, come and gеt your b-tch
molly, molly, holly, wolly, hottie thottie wit’ a badass body
i don’t play that sh-t, i keep that chopper
i might buy mе a maserati
shoot that drum at that b-tch, it’s a thottie
‘fore i give you my sh-t, you know i’ma pop it
b-tch, give me yo’ soul, give me yo’ body
swag up the b-tch, pop off her mama
i get high in this b-tch, on soul
i’m so high in this b-tch, i’m gone
i might make a poppin n-gga b-tch come touch her toes
still’ll make a r&b b-tch come here and hand off her phone
give a f-ck ’bout how good she can sing, b-tch, get that phone, yeah
[bridge]
b-tch, get that phone, ho
huh, b-tch, get that phone, yeah-yeah
huh, b-tch, get that phone, ho
b-tch, get that phone, oh yeah-yeah-yeah

[verse 2]
my brothers, they kick in that door (yeah-yeah)
i don’t like that n-gga or ho (yeah-yeah)
i don’t like that lil’ boy or his b-tch
i do not like my ho for to hear none of these songs
like when i breakin’ her back to my songs
makin’ these b-tches stack racks at home
clingy type of time you on
buy me clothes that fit me right
i don’t know who f-ckin’ side you on
i just know if it’s wrong, it ain’t real right
i ain’t f-ckin’ on her every night
i ain’t put money on yo’ head, that’s right
bang red, that blood, my thug, my five
you know slime could get this party hype
shootout, soon as i get outside
rudolph, beam on his nose and eyes
chew-out, which one gon’ eat me right?
geeker than geeked, i’m higher than high, uh-huh
i’m more geeked up than geeked, and i’m higher than high, b-tch
i get higher with her when i’m shoppin’ online, b-tch, yeah
i can get out my words through this everytime (b-tch, yeah)
yeah, and this b-tch here again without you on my side (b-tch, yeah)
yeah, i’ma slime, b-tch, don’t play with my mind, and you know you might die (b-tch, yeah)
i got factory tires on bottom of each of my rides (b-tch, yeah)
i got factory tires on bottom of each of my rides (b-tch, yeah)
[outro]
i got more money than you lil’ boys, y’all some b-tches (b-tch, yeah)
i can’t even drive and got more cars, your sh-t is leased or rented (b-tch, yeah)
know we make sh-t hot, pop out rolls royce, on back got switches (b-tch, yeah)
i don’t give no f-ck ’bout who a star, i don’t want you b-tches (b-tch, yeah)

- youngboy never broke again

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