rey mysterio - yn jay lyrics
[intro: yn jay]
(it’s a wayne beat)
hold on
[verse 1: yn jay]
i just pulled up with dogsh*t, look like hogsh*t
i just shoot my shot from the three, it was all wrist
i just hit her on my tippy*toes, she a tall b*tch
i probably got your b*tch number on my call list
make your b*tch wait for two hours, on my stall sh*t
keep a shotgun behind the counter, on my paw sh*t
cross a n*gga up like i’m chris, on my paul sh*t
hah, why you do that, jay?
b*tch let me f*ck because i’m, yeah, ’cause i’m the coochie man
hah
walked in with my coochie friends, it’s a coochie group
b*tch, i don’t wanna get no head, what that coochie do?
ooh*ah
i’ll get to growlin’ in this b*tch like a lion do
.223s make your car stop like a siren do
b*tch, your eye keep twitchin’, who you lyin’ to?
you ain’t know i had a record label? who you signin’ to?
when i’m in the kitchen, i be cookin’, think i’m fryin’ food
i don’t takе pictures, when i shoot, i need a stabilizer
how you hit thе road with no money? you can’t pay a driver
i’ll tie a p*ssy n*gga up with a cable wire
[verse 2: rio da yung og]
i just got into it with my lil’ b*tch ’cause i came inside her
i’ma pull up in a long white van like a cable driver
we really bite, we don’t bark, you an ankle*biter
tryna redecorate my new crib, i went table shoppin’
ain’t been on big beaver in a minute, i’m on maple shoppin’
yeah, you know i had to hit revive
drop thirty shots and spin around, see if he still alive
i got tremendous aim with the glock, i can hit a fly
hit a lame n*gga in the top with the chop, he got his sk!llet fried
i’ll get to poppin’ everywhere like when chicken fryin’
the plug just threw me one bird, it’s a chicken flyin’
baby, stop tryna touch my d*ck, four*nickel by it
grab the best pot out granny kitchen, drop a zip inside it
[verse 3: yn jay & rio da yung og]
f*ckin’ this b*tch real good, you see my hip providin’
seventeen in each pocket, you see a brick divided
i ain’t prepare to hit the n*gga in his head, i had to improvise
this is my 2020 ‘lac, this is not enterprise’s
i might drop an amg truck and let my b*tch drive it
whip my d*ck out in the dark, let my b*tch find it
my b*tch cheated, i wasn’t trippin’, uh*uh, uh*uh
my b*tch cheatin’, i wasn’t, uh
my b*tch cheated, i wasn’t trippin’, but she poured my drank out, i was finna fight her
i done f*cked every b*tch in michigan ’cause i trick sometimes
i don’t wanna f*ck when i’m off lean ’cause i get tired
light a n*gga up, one strike, that’s a big lighter
i really like to break down, but i sold a brick one time
cars just came in the mail from the 619
shot two hoes fightin’ at the club, the big one died
asked me why i drink a lot of cough syrup, ’cause i be sick sometimes
i ain’t never sold no (ah)
i ain’t never sold no (roof), but i sold a pill one time
i don’t know rey mysterio, but i’ma 619
i need to buy a rolex ’cause i forget my time
i can’t forget my iron, iron (hah)
alright, yeah
i don’t got on rico clothes, i can’t forget my iron
i can’t leave my people at the bottom, can’t forget my tribe
b*tch asked me what’s my zodiac? don’t forget my sign
funny as h*ll talkin’ to my b*tch, i forget my lie
[interlude: rio da yung og]
yeah, let me tell you
alright, multitask when i went in, when i went
alright, multitask when i, ah
i could roll
i could roll a blunt
alright, watch this
[verse 4: rio da yung og]
i could roll a blunt, text my b*tch, drive, and shoot the stick
take the pill, r disturb her peace, no ludacris
i just took a bougie b*tch to bucharest
you probably hit me up last night, but i ain’t see the text
my jeweler said i can’t get another chain ’cause he need some rest
[outro: rio da yung og]
ah, let me up, i need to stretch
f*ck her with my gun in my hand, havin’ evil s*x
f*ck, her, yeah
her bad*ass son touched my palm angels shirt, now i got cheeto prints
yeah
burn the scene up after i bust, they ain’t see no prints, man
and i’ll throw a— ball on my tebow sh*t, alright
f*ck around and have to— the pizza man, on my t.o. sh*t, ooh
and i’ll drop a n*gga every tuesday, on my p.o. sh*t, n*gga, yeah
and i got my chain from golden sun, let me see your sh*t
yeah, and thirty racks for the watch, let me see your wrist, yeah
n*gga, and i only drink wock’, you can keep your tris, yeah
and just sent me ten lines of that, you can keep your six, alright
y’all n*ggas don’t be on sh*t, yeah
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