Black Jesus

Lil Yachty

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    (Oh Lord, Jetson made another one)

    Pull out them racks on a nigga, he's so funny
    He talk the most shit, but got no money
    Tough on the 'net, but in person, a new Gandhi
    Stand on my racks and I'm Mo Bambi
    I mean Mo Bamba, anklets a new Honda
    I need threes with TiTi and with La'Shonda
    I get right, it's on sight for you newcomers
    I got two solid fists for you mouth-runners
    With the gang out in public, we ho hunters
    Kick that bitch out the spot like a team punter
    Think it's time I run up me a Bugatti
    Got this bitch ridin' dick like a Ducati
    Bought an AP plain jane out in Dubai
    Actin' out for attention, the new guy
    Got another lawsuit, need a new tie
    Know some niggas switched up, turned Ifá
    Know some niggas out West bangin' treetop
    Made that bitch give me head 'til her knees pop
    Switchin' sides on the gang, tryna ease out
    Catch you slippin', we knockin' your teeth out
    Tryna come down my block, need to reroute
    Tryna see all that shit that you talk 'bout
    Know it's cap in your rap, you ain't gotta lie
    In LA with Zack Bia at Nice Guy
    In LA with Zack Bia at Papis
    I'm in Houston ho huntin' with Tati
    I just had me a smooth little ten piece
    Run it up
    Stick on my back like I'm huntin' up
    Yeah, if I let my dogs loose, they gon' run amuck
    Quick to pull up with them 30s tucked

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    Run up, flatbread, lay low, stackin' tall
    Hit his head once, body dropped, rest his soul
    I got big guap, big killers, big pieces
    She wan' fuck the gang, told that bitch to write a thesis
    Pull up all white, lookin' like I'm black Jesus
    And my new crib fancy like the Saint Regis
    Niggas sweet as shit, turn 'em to a Reese's Pieces
    Diamonds shinin' so damn bright, give a nigga seizures

    Nothin' make me more happy than backends
    I'm straight to no signal, them racks in
    These new niggas' music is trashcan
    He can't feed his fans, so they fastin'
    He told 'em, "Let's all go Muslim"
    That bitch nigga ain't out hustlin'
    I said take a sip, why you guzzlin'?
    Give me my damn cup back, nigga
    I'm too rich to be out here tusslin'
    Buddy just paid a rack for some 'Tussin
    Hope he sick, 'cause that's all that it's good for
    I wish that my big brother did more
    I pray that my lil' sister live long
    Paint the 'Rari all yellow like Armstrong
    Got a stock with a stick, it's an arm long
    Wow
    Heard they said I went broke, boy, was they wrong
    I just cashed in a check, it's a phone number
    Bitch, your ass on the porch like the door number
    We gon' track your ass down like LoJack
    Why they playin' with me? I need more racks
    To the money, I'm runnin' up four flat
    This shit right here gon' need four plaques

    Run up, flatbread, lay low, stackin' tall
    Hit his head once, body dropped, rest his soul
    I got big guap, big killers, big pieces
    She wan' fuck the gang, told that bitch to write a thesis
    Pull up all white, lookin' like I'm black Jesus
    And my new crib fancy like the Saint Regis
    Niggas sweet as shit, turn 'em to a Reese's Pieces
    Diamonds shinin' so damn bright, give a nigga seizures

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Freek Van Workum, Nicholas Luscombe, Jetson Made, Lil Boat y Joey Morrison

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