Yellow Tape (feat. Lil Wayne, A$AP Rocky & French Montana)

Attention please, x2 This feel like the whole entire world collapsed Uh, This that yellow tape shit They keep running out of it We just sold like 8 bricks We ain't running out of it This our fucking hood bitch Run yo' ass up out of it This gun come with eight clips Shoot 'til I run out of it Work, Work, Work, I got it I got it This that yellow tape shit, me I'm 'bout to go ape shit Got eight chicks on eight molly's and they about to take eight trips Dice game, eight trips, got a Houston Rocket from J Prince She get it poppin, I'm a send her shopping and that ain't even my main bitch Home invasions, live action, smoker Joe, I'm high jacking Wrote the dope had my dough, I'll be there, Five Jacksons Sin City, K.O.D., Hundred Thousand all in one's Versace jacket, Versace shoes, Versace shades, I got a Thousand son's Mama you the shit i'll pay your car note Why you fucking with him? Even his car broke We rocking Balmain's down to the cargo's Your bitch so thirsty, Murcielago Call me Joey I'm a bad ass, Harlem world like Baghdad Come through with a black flag and Supreme Vans, the Half Cabs Bitches on that Pad-ad, Fuck her with her fat ass I get-gets my dick licked, my friends hit (That's trap trap) What the fuck you mean, I be sitting clean sipping lean Alexander Wang, that's the fucking jeans, triple beam When I serve the fiends, hit you with the beam chopper scream Leave a nigga dead fucking with the team, magazine Choo-Choo that train go, drink slow, my chain gold Soo-Woop or you True Blue, don't get your block yellow taped though Eight bricks get it shaved off Yeen' Ho Yeen' know Range Rove or the bank roll, I shoot-shoot then change clothes You know we loaded with them choppers by the Hundred boy When you talk about that work, you niggas unemployed White work, I got it, Brown work, I got it Two chains, show your titty ho, damn right I got it Just copped about eight bricks, just copped about eight whips Copped work from Saint Nick, your whole stash like eight nicks Smoke that loud and keep it quiet, let that money talk Get that brown bag and I skate off like I'm Tony Hawk Benz drop my top back, your bitch look, I slide that To the South Bronx and I pop that She call you for that ride back (Haan) South Bronx we got it, Joe Crack we got it Black card no limit ho, damn right we 'bout it Coke boy (Joe Crack)