paroles de chanson Oh Yeah - Destroy Lonely

(You think you know me)
(Clayco on the beat)
Yeah, yeah
I got money, I hopped out of bed
Oh, yeah, hold up
Yeah, oh, yeah
Yeah, oh, yeah
Yeah (Racks on his head), oh, yeah

I got money, I hopped out of bed
Damn, he tried it, racks on his head
Damn, we not playing fair
Told her to ride it just like the fair
No running, no hiding, nigga, oh, well
Yeah, put that lil' dope on the scale
I got a big bankroll, I'ma throw it in the air
I got a real bad bitch, oh, yeah

Racks, they come in the mail
Yeah, bags, they going for sale
Yeah, and thе shit that I rock YSL
Yeah, and your ship is gon' sink, it won't sail
I know she gon' fuck me, shе think I can't tell
She told me her nigga broke, he lame as hell
She said if I hit it, then, no, I can't tell
She suck me so crazy, she nasty as hell
This bitch rocking Off-White drip like mayo
Lil' bro serving real deal coke, call it yayo
I just bought a zip and it came with a smell
I think that they finding out just what I paid for (What I paid for)

I got money, I hopped out of bed
Damn, he tried it, racks on his head
Damn, we not playing fair
Told her to ride it just like the fair
No running, no hiding, nigga, oh, well
Yeah, put that lil' dope on the scale
I got a big bankroll, I'ma throw it in the air
I got a real bad bitch, oh, yeah

I got a whole lot of racks, put them shits in bands
I got a whole lot of drip, I rock this shit like bands
I smoke a whole lot of dope, I'm high and I can't land
I flooded my fingers with so much water, ain't no land
I got a foreign bitch, she Himalayan
I don't know the last time I popped a Xan'
And just like the new 'Vette, I'm moving fast
No, I'm not a rookie, I'm a vet and I'm on they ass
And my nigga got a stick, he blow it like that
I count up super quick and I was skipping math
I got a smart bitch, she got a stupid ass
She got a smart mouth, like, nigga, who asked?

I got money, I hopped out of bed
Damn, he tried it, racks on his head
Damn, we not playing fair
Told her to ride it just like the fair
No running, no hiding, nigga, oh, well
Yeah, put that lil' dope on the scale
I got a big bankroll, I'ma throw it in the air
I got a real bad bitch, oh, yeah

(You think you know me)
(Clayco on the beat)