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tee grizzley x lil yachty from the d to the a - gavin baylor lyrics

[verse 1: lil yachty]
(h*lluva made this beat, baby) off top, run a n*gga out his socks
n*ggas talk more than b*tches, n*ggas really be on c*ck though (p*ssy)
just f*cked a ho out in france, paint her face like picasso
i iced out my vatos, i’m really up (yeah)
big ass bimmer, big benz, and my bentley next (skrrt)
don’t play around on my phone, ho, give me s*x
watch on my wrist out of date, but it’s rolex
grizzley up next, i’m up now, strap your bullet vest

[verse 2: tee grizzley]
five*hundred fifties, six*hundred hundreds
seven*hundreds twenties, let’s get straight to it
eight*hundrеd tens, what’s that, eight bands?
hit the storе and get some rubber bands, let’s get straight to it
everybody come together, everybody got the plan
he came with you, so if he steal, it fall on you, we on your ass
have your mans call his mans, make sure they ain’t movin’ fast
soon as they touch atlanta, get with boat, secure the bag, n*gga, ah

[verse 3: lil yachty]
uh, oh, a bag secured, that’s on my mama, bro
asian lil’ ho, she ride that d*ck, yokohama flow
made that sh*t double, got an uzi, i don’t scuffle
not a banger but that banger in my car like an airbag
n*ggas only aimin’ in the sky, call those air mags (yeah)
all up in neiman’s, coppin’ sh*t, like, f*ck a price tag
i’m ballin’, ain’t near a rap n*gga in the game that i’m callin’ (nah)
if i need help, i’ll dial it by my se*kelf
[verse 4: tee grizzley & lil yachty]
you swear your b*tch faithful, she sent her location
i hit her at the trap in decatur, she basic (crazy)
chop with the laser, get decapitated (grrah)
can’t smoke, i’m on papers, hold on, this my jamaican (love one)
n*ggas want me dead, so i’m steady prayin’
ain’t no disrespect without retaliation
f*ck a hotel, i hit her in the bas*m*nt
text her later like, “i’m done with you, i got a situation, baby” (hmm)

[verse 5: lil yachty & tee grizzley]
well sh*t, bro, let me get her then (yeah)
i’ma dog her out then switcheroo into the lion’s den (gang)
n*gga talkin’ down, my bro got more heat than a fryin’ pan (doo*doo*doo)
gucci ’round my hair, wrapped tight like i’m taliban (pew)
like i’m taliban, how we drop sh*t (begone)
lot of dreadheads, lot of chopsticks (ah)
touch my n*gga yachty, get your top ripped (lil boat, boom)
don’t ask the price if you know you ain’t tryna cop sh*t
you the type to look around but never cop sh*t, ayy
i’m the type to buy the store, make them restock it, ayy
beam on everythin’ i own, i will not miss (doo*doo*doo)
grizzley by my side like a pilot ridin’ c*ckpit (yeah, bro)
yachty, i might stop rappin’ for this one reason (oh, for real?)
if the feds hear this sh*t i’m doin’ a hundred seasons (hey)
in the hood, shootin’ cr*ps in my yeezys
put angels on you n*ggas who be playin’ like y’all demons (you dig?)
middle finger to them n*ggas hatin’ and fakin’
they plottin’ on my death, i give their mothers deep penetration
this diamond choker for some reason give me pure ventilation
every real n*gga livin’ will respect this collaboration (gang, gang)
we the bust down brothers, check the rollies out
say you winnin’ one more time, i’m pullin’ trophies out
n*ggas know we out, no shaqs, all kobes out
in other words, i’m with all shooters that’ll blow you down (buh*buh*buh*buh)
from the d to the a, put respect on it (b*tch)
if that’s your ho, why my d*ck got her mouth on it? (b*tch)
i’m from the south, i got diamonds in my t**th
i got fur on my fleece, my new ring could pay your lease (lease, n*gga)
chain on my dresser next to my indictment
when they said not guilty i was so excited
from the a to the d, b*tch you heard yachty
wraith comin’ this summer, i’ma have your b*tch drivin’ (b*tch!)

- gavin baylor lyrics

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