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cant be crete boys - lil yachty & veeze lyrics

part i

[verse 1: veeze]
f*ck with award shows
he said he was standing on business, but him and opps had a convo
i walk to the kitchen to get in the club, you standing in line, bro
everyday they [?] my closet [?], basically, i’m dying slow
i’m sippin’ codeine by the pint, lil’ baby, i’m sorry, i don’t drive boat
i’m throwin’ it up in the club, the money risky like four
i ride in the concrete air force 1, i can’t put the price on
my twin got big ass [?] and they [?]

[verse 2: lil yachty]
my mama paid three thou’ for a bag, can’t even put her phone in it
pray [?] cash [?], patek ain’t even have stones in it
you n*ggas so soft, [?] boys up, and ain’t got no b*lls in ’em
f*ck around, foul, spill some blood all over my chrome denim
n*gga mad at me, be mad at your ho, what the f*ck is wrong with him?
y’all took that [?] and i’m intentionally doing a song with him
i tsu, i seen him with everywhere, n*gga, we hot
you n*ggas so lame, gotta rock their jewlery inside the house
ain’t f*ck with these n*ggas, i’m master, moving around like a b*st*rd
ain’t goin’ back and forth with no sucker ass
n*gga, we [?]
first n*gga tugged on my chain, make an example, make a disaster
i like my hoes no face no case, my b*tch straight out nebraska
part ii

- lil yachty veeze lyrics

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