Lyrics Wassup Ha (feat. A$AP Ferg) - Vado
Go
on,
GP
Boss,
what
we
doin'?
Yeah
You
know
I
hate
when
the
DA
win
When
puttin'
a
good
nigga
in
the
C-A-N
I
been
the
man,
moving
weight
on
the
P-A-N
I
had
Dapper
Dan
liftin'
the
gate
at
3 AM
(Harlem)
The
flow
worthy,
drippin',
these
hoes
thirsty
Silk
shorts,
Vlone
jersey,
yo
Fergie
([?])
Flow
sicker
than
mumps,
who
gon'
nurse
me?
Take
my
casket
from
the
church,
who
gon'
hearse
me
(Who?)
Not
every
rapper
what
New
York
sound
like
To
me,
they
what
the
New
York
pound
like,
trash
(Ha)
I
ain't
top
five,
that
don't
sound
right
I
kill
your
top
five
for
the
crown
rights,
fast
('Sup?)
All
my
niggas
is
ballin',
let's
have
a
shoot
around
(Uh)
Nowadays
it's
too
high
if
you
payin'
two
a
pound
(Huh)
Ball
shorts,
Gucci
socks,
but
ain't
Gucci'd
down
(Huh)
Polo
tee
and
wide
caps
say
Gucci
and
that
(Uh)
From
[?]
to
Riverside
Where
the
bitches
get
money
on
real
nigga
time
Where
the
streets
is
hungry,
want
every
bit
of
fries
Where
we
far
from
bummy
and
every
nigga
fly
Ah,
what
up,
ha?
What
up,
ha?
What
up,
ha?
(Yeah)
What
up?
Yo,
what's
up,
ha?
(Vado,
what
up?)
What
up,
ha?
(Yeah)
What's
up,
ha?
What's
up?
I'm
most
hated
cookouts
except
for
most
hated
cookouts
(Yeah)
'Cause
when
the
grill's
on,
grill's
on
and
the
crooks
out
(Come
on)
Made
it
through
a
lot,
I
could
put
a
book
out
(Yeah)
From
being
fly
and
shot
of
groupie
Bitches
with
they
puss'
out
(Alright)
Now
it's
Met
Gala's
models
trippin'
on
gowns
Paparazzi
designers,
I'm
Dior'd
down
(Yeah)
Man,
I'm
grateful,
but
counting
money
a
chore
now
Girls
used
to
front
but
they
booty
round
of
applause
now
(Right)
It
was
a
conscious
decision
not
to
be
pimpin'
(Right)
I
always
felt
like
Jordan,
but
we
all
winning
My
generation
on
opiates,
it'll
fog
your
vision
I
meditate
and
I
levitate
then
pursue
the
vision
(That's
right)
No
room
for
Bobby
Brown's,
this
the
new
edition
Straight
precision,
no
collisions
Tunnel
vision,
I
pray
my
millions
go
through
the
ceiling
Creating
new
positions
is
my
crew
tradition
(My
crew
tradition)
From
[?]
to
Riverside
Where
the
bitches
get
money
on
real
nigga
time
Where
the
streets
is
hungry,
want
every
bit
of
fries
Where
we
far
from
bummy
and
every
nigga
fly
Ah,
what
up,
ha?
What
up,
ha?
What
up,
ha?
What
up?
Yo,
what's
up,
ha?
What's
up,
ha?
What's
up,
ha?
What's
up?
Uh,
soon
as
I
step
inside
of
the
building
They
all
inside
of
they
feelings,
y'all
don't
feel
'em
(Who?
Say
less)
I
just
come
here
to
make
me
a
killing
Y'all
tryna
block
me
from
dealings
making
millions
(Move)
Picture
me
a
island
and
spillin'
the
wine,
Wildin'
with
women
while
they
chillin'
(New,
ass)
This
is
the
maker,
never
forget
it
Get
cheddar,
fuck
with
the
bitches,
yeah,
I
been
this
(Dude)
This
is
that
Champagne
[?]
flow
(Harlem)
Ayy,
Jay
Lester's,
never
Bali
a
[?]
The
gang
knows
I
play
the
block
in
the
same
clothes
For
weeks
straight,
with
white
chasin'
the
bankrolls
Huh,
like
y'all
don't
need
no
'caine?
I
get
you
a
great
number,
you
can
see
those
things
I'm
tryna
hit
everybody
like
when
Cleo
aim
I'm
quick
to
break
down
like
a
pre-owned
range
(Ha)
From
[?]
to
Riverside
Where
the
bitches
get
money
on
real
nigga
time
Where
the
streets
is
hungry,
want
every
bit
of
fries
Where
we
far
from
bummy
and
every
nigga
fly
Ah,
what
up,
ha?
What
up,
ha?
What
up,
ha?
What
up?
Yo,
what's
up,
ha?
What's
up,
ha?
What's
up,
ha?
What's
up?
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