INTRO Lyrics – yikes!
Singer: yikes!
Title: INTRO
Donda, donda, donda
Donda, donda, donda, donda, donda, donda, donda, donda, donda, donda
Donda, donda, donda, donda, donda, donda
Donda donda donda donda
Donda donda donda donda
What the f#ck?
Kyōmi nai ne
I make a lot of new different money
All my killas pull up and they gettin’ blunted
Finna drink up the mud, now i’m gettin’ mudded
Caliber, caliber, caliber
Caliber, caliber, hit somebody
Silencer, silencer, ring somebody
Outy boy, outy boy in an audi
Free my boy, white boy gon get ’em
Free my boy white, go get him follie
All this lean i poured, i should get a molly
Sniff the coco right up cause your b#tch got problems
Wildin’ boy, wildin’ boy, wildin’ boy
Life of desiigner be stylin’ boy
You gettin’ hit up, i get annoyed
Mike on the wheel and i drive the toy
You get robbed or get jigg or you got extort
Tell ’em talk sh#t, tell ’em talk sh#t, i’ma keep throwin’
That’s your b#tch, that’s your b#tch, that be deep throatin’
We be swipin’ cards, we be gettin’ money, there’s weed blowin’
That’s lean drippin’, we lean drippin’, that’s cee-lo in
We be rollin’ 6s, tell ’em roll with me
You gon’ go get it? we gon’ go get ’em
All my n#gg#s got it, all my n#gg#s with it
We got bad strippers, we got n#gg#s with it
Yeah!
Double c on my feet
Double g on my freak (ooh), louis v by my briefs
She wan’ kick it with me, she better eat it then leave (leave, woah)
She try save all the plates but keep eatin’ my meat
We can’t see none of ’em grow, she keep eatin’ my seeds (woo)
Got a e and a b on the back of the seat
See i’m done with the 12, got a v16 (git, git)
Say the money comin’ in, yeah, that’s true
The more money i get, i don’t wan’ sex you
Can’t think about the last time that i text you
It’s probably when sidekicks had them belt loops
Sign my john hancock on a b#tch every time i check you
Just like a brand new lamb’, i wreck you, uh
So what’s mine is yours
I’m going dumb in a moshpit (b#tch)
If i’m out in the crowd, i lost it (lost)
I can’t close my eyelids
Why? ’cause a young n#gg# off it, uh
I got the message like a prophet
I got the message like a (i got the message like a)
I got the message like a prophet, uh (yeah)
Last year, made a big profit, uh (yeah)
Big bands, put it in my wallet, uh
Smoking this gas got me coughing, yes, sir
If you talk that bad, put you in a casket or a coffin (b#tch, b#tch)
Yeah (yeah), it’s a motherf#cking stickup (b#tch)
Put your hands up or get hit up (bah-bah)
I grew up a bad n#gg# (yeah)
Section 8 baby (in the projects)
I was in the projects with the hitters (hitters)
Now, i count bands, count figures (chicken)
You don’t f#ck with sheck wes? get the finger (b#tch)
Danced on a ho like mike (yes), danced on a ho like the wizard (thriller)
My youngin heart cold like december (b#tch)
Streets done turned him to a killer
Let me get ’em, ye
They gon’ hate on a young n#gg# anyway
They only call me when they havin’ bills to pay (go)
Ain’t nobody ask me how i feel today
I think about it and get in my feelings, ye
Wanna use me, they think i’m stupid
sh#t that they put out is very confusing
Feel like the media tryna abuse me
Y’all wanna crucify me, huh? (oh yeah)
She a god-fearin’ woman, but back that #ss up
Juvenile in ’99, now i’m tryna find peace, have to find a god
Ain’t been havin’ good sleep since my father died
Know our feelings are focused, i thought you know this
When there’s prophets and motherf#ckin’ poets
You ain’t got the mind to picture what my flow is
I’m straight from the bottom, n#gg#, where the floor is
Went straight through the roof, like a n#gg# forgot where the door is (the roof)
Tryna make some shoes with yeezy and billion dollar baby clothing
They think ’cause we black, we supposed to hide our feelings and it’s over
Nah, n#gg#, f#ck that
She let me f#ck after church on a tuesday
Don’t got a ring, but she gave me that coochie
Don’t know how to make secular music
I hope ye like it, i hope he still use it
I ain’t f#ckin’ with n#gg#s, i’m gucci
They crumble in controversy, i be coolin’ (huh, huh)
Your chest beatin’, lemme feel your heart
They might say i didn’t, but i did my part
I never gave a f#ck how n#gg#s feel
And this damn sure ain’t the day i’m finna start
Ye sent the beat that i could pick apart
Right now in this song, we at the minute mark
Actually, we’re around three and a half minutes in
f#ck
Also, do you know what the word “secular” even means?
I mean, you can continue your verse if you want
I ain’t stoppin’ you
Keep this in though, it’ll be funny
Good idea
It’ll be kinda like when i had to ask push about charcuteries
I already told you what that sh#t is
Do i need to explain it again?
Push, get out the studio
Fine, but this sh#t better slap
Punch in whenever you like
I walk down for a minute long
Put the top down, know i’m strapped with that glizzy
Ain’t even mean to go get in my feelings
This is a powerful song, i can feel it
She don’t got on drawers but she know all the scriptures
He could teach me the word, i’ll never forget it
Forgive me and her, it’s a time for repentin’
And it clap like, “amen,” from the back when i hit it
I’m black, i’m so black, i’m so black they can feel it
Paid three million cash in my taxes on wednesday
The government, i’m payin’ them millions to
They don’t care about n#gg#s when white people kill ’em
I make a lot of new different money
All my killas pull up and they gettin’ blunted
Finna drink up the mud, now i’m gettin’ mudded
Caliber, caliber, caliber
Caliber, caliber, hit somebody
Silencer, silencer, ring somebody
Outy boy, outy boy in an audi
Free my boy, white boy gon get ’em
Free my boy white, go get him follie
All this lean i poured, i should get a molly
Sniff the coco right up cause your b#tch got problems
Wildin’ boy, wildin’ boy, wildin’ boy
Life of desiigner be stylin’ boy
You gettin’ hit up, i get annoyed
Mike on the wheel and i drive the toy
You get robbed or get jigg or you got extort
Tell ’em talk sh#t, tell ’em talk sh#t, i’ma keep throwin’
That’s your b#tch, that’s your b#tch, that be deep throatin’
We be swipin’ cards, we be gettin’ money, there’s weed blowin’
That’s lean drippin’, we lean drippin’, that’s cee-lo in
Get out the booth
You finna burn this damn studio down
Find more lyrics at lyrics.jspinyin.net
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Lyrics yikes! – INTRO
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