W.Y.A - C-Dot 416: Song Lyrics, Music Videos & Concerts

W.Y.A

125

Hip-Hop/Rap

W.Y.A was released on December 25, 2017 by Untitledexport Records // Messy Records as a part of the album Precipice

Song Details

Release DateDecember 25, 2017

LabelUntitledexport Records // Messy Records

LanguageEnglish

Melodicness

Acousticness

Valence

Danceability

Energy

BPM70

OVERVIEW

LYRICS

Music Video

Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS

C-Dot 416

Lead Vocals

COMPOSITION & LYRICS

Caleb Clifton Cairns

Caleb Clifton Cairns

Songwriter

PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING

C-Dot 416

Co-Producer

Lyrics

He like, "Where you at? What you doing?" I'm like, "Who is that? Where you from?"

I don't trust these fake hitters who all riding 'round with that gun

You be talking like a killer, you can come and get you some

And I don't trust these bitches either, tryna fuck me out my funds

He like, "Where you at? What you doing?" I'm like, "Who is that? Where he from?"

I don't trust these fake hitters who all riding 'round with that gun

You be talking like a killer, you can come and get you some

And I don't trust these bitches either, tryna fuck me out my funds

They like, "Where you at, C-Dot?" Said, "I'm right here on the spot"

I ain't runnin', I ain't duckin', I'ma stand all these shots

Only time you see me running, when it's from the fucking cops

Everyday I wake up mad, I'm out here tryna dodge a charge

I ain't Tay-K, I ain't do the race, bitch, I beat the case

Walk outside, light a cigarette and blow it in their face

Everyday, bitches know my name, rocking on the stage

What you sayin', thought I told your bitch ass we are not the same

I got stabbed on Forest Ave in Portland, Maine, but it ain't work

Yeah, they tried to take my life, but now I'm coming back for yours

I'ma put the barrel in your mouth and make you do the Kurt

Wear your shirt, make you hurt, leave you six feet in the dirt

I ain't gang affiliated, but my trigger fingers work

I ain't never kill nobody, but you just might be my first

If I see you 'round my way and I don't like the way you lurk

I'ma let my pistol hang and have you leaving in a hearse

He like, "Where you at? What you doing?" I'm like, "Who is that? Where you from?"

I don't trust these fake hitters who all riding 'round with that gun

You be talking like a killer, you can come and get you some

And I don't trust these bitches either, tryna fuck me out my funds

He like, "Where you at? What you doing?" I'm like, "Who is that? Where he from?"

I don't trust these fake hitters who all riding 'round with that gun

You be talking like a killer, you can come and get you some

And I don't trust these bitches either, tryna fuck me out my funds

Ha ha, yeah, tryna fuck me out my guac

She give top to my whole squad, if she bitching, we cut her off

All you pussy haters soft, all you doing is pillow talk

Need to stop cuffin' these broads and need to stop actin' so fraud

Get your mind on your money, need to start walkin' the talk

I'm Bruce Springsteen in these streets and you can call me the boss

If you address me as "C-Dot" then I don't trust you from the start

I see snakes up in my grass, so I'ma shoot 'em out my yard

I got AKs and them Glocks riding legal up in my car

So much kick back on that forty-seven, leaning when I fire

As you see, my Polo jeans, they be holding up all my iron

Got that vest up on my chest, only headshots will get me dyin'

Hold my index to ring finger up, go read between the lines

Online gangsters say I'm acting, just know that they fucking lyin'

If you looking at me wrong, then I'ma wipe that fucking smile

If you hopped up in my Polos, your ass couldn't walk a mile

He like, "Where you at? What you doing?" I'm like, "Who is that? Where you from?"

I don't trust these fake hitters who all riding 'round with that gun

You be talking like a killer, you can come and get you some

And I don't trust these bitches either, tryna fuck me out my funds

He like, "Where you at? What you doing?" I'm like, "Who is that? Where he from?"

I don't trust these fake hitters who all riding 'round with that gun

You be talking like a killer, you can come and get you some

And I don't trust these bitches either, tryna fuck me out my funds

Written by: Caleb Clifton Cairns

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