Yeah, watch me.

They know who run this bitch for real.

Take me back to the 80s, baby.

They gonna tell you what they want, though.

Okay, it’s Yella

Verse 1

Five for the six, I dropped the low, I know he better pull up.

Fucked her from the back, right in the trap, and even threw my foot up.

She claim she sick of my shit, ain’t fucking with me — told her, “Good luck.”

She think she my bitch, but she ain’t good for nothing but a good fuck.

Nicer with the numbers, sold a hundred out this under.

Plus, I’m rice with the receptions, I be catching shit, don’t fumble.

Fuck that extra shit, don’t mumble — when you say my name, bitch, speak up.

Two K’s, bitch, we up. Don’t get shot up, you’re getting beat up.

All the gangsters eating in my section — this a free lunch.

Spot don’t ever close, they be like, “How the fuck y’all re-up?”

Nut all on her collar, I couldn’t help it how she eat up.

Fifty in her luggage, she be geeked up when we meet up.

Ran off, think it’s sweet, till lil’ bro come shoot his street up.

Can’t sit at the table with us, pussy, give your seat up.

I was better off joining us, they sure the fuck can’t beat us.

And me and my **** won, I told them lawyers, “Gon’ free us.”

Hook

We the ones controlling traffic, I’ma keep it real.

Your ****’s a buster — give a fuck about how he feel.

Every spot I been in bump at least a half a mil’.

And I ain’t never need a **** if I had my vacuum seal.

I ain’t never need a ****, ’cause I keep my itchy on me.

Dropped my last hoe, I had too many bitches on me.

Feds want a money case, they know we getting money.

Sucker **** wanna take some shit, I think this shit is funny (ha ha ha).

Verse 2

Fell off for six months, I was struggling with the bills.

I can’t stay down too long, I got **** who need the pills.

Hit a lick for real, I got **** with bricks and pills.

Ain’t nobody wanna give me deals — I don’t fuck with **** still.

I stand on my own ten, don’t need no **** with me.

Ask around the city, jacket solid, I ain’t iffy.

Ask around the city, jacket solid, I ain’t iffy.

If he’s sending threats, then he’s gonna have to come and get me.

Get his eggs cracked behind this bread, ****, Jiffy.

And I ain’t foreign — riding slow like Deebo on his ten speed.

I can get you knocked off for the shopping money my bitch need.

Brand new cookie bag I got from Oregon smells like Swiss cheese.

My **** pay twelve, but if you green I need fifteen.

Yeah Hey, these **** ain't talking about shit, champ. I just took a breather, let these **** bowl a little bit, now I'm back in this, you know. Yeah, I feel like fuck a ****, fuck a bitch, this all year. Cartel, money really count. You don't like it, eat a dick.

It's yella…