lirik lagu y. teezy - what you know?
[verse 1: y.t–zy]
yeah, tell me what you know about that
wake up in the morning, and i cook these n-ggas, see me put on my chef hat
no i don’t f-ck with no rats
strictly tryna’ get racks
best believe that i ain’t talking bout’ t–th, when i say a n-gga tryna get plaques, uh
as a matter of fact, like with no suit-t–zy don’t slack
f-ck with my team or f-ck with nothing, i’ll break my foot off in yo’ back
look how i attack the beat, when i rap the beat, is probably taking a dirt nap
up in my chick, hitting from the back, seat is reclined she’s up on my lap, uh
back if you didn’t know, rap with the sickest flow
f-ck like a gigolo, i get blown like a piccolo
make her scream like the opera- figuro, figuro
like a basketball play how i get these girls when i pick & roll
yo’ girl yeah she pick and chose
me now we get to go
put the d on her, and then i give her the finger roll
treat her like woman, treat her like hoes if she is one too
first quarter 3-pointer, my homies here then we alley oop
please don’t hate the player, the game, not even both
fcoe we be the team and you know f-ckin’ with the coach
don’t be afraid if a n-gga a-pproach
got a gl-ss in the air now i’m makin’ a toast
bake these n-ggas, i hate these n-ggas, got a n-z- flow, if you n-ggas ain’t know
hoes in here, home depot
she gon’ take it in there you know she a deep throat
blow up-c4
this my channel, f-ck a remote, throw it to em’ tebow
i raise the stakes(steaks) n-gga no t-bone
look at what i be on, i network,network, then network like i had 3 phones
sh-ttin’ on you pee-ons
hoes betta’ leave me lone’
so cold with the verse, ice in the hurse, f-ck flames i tell em’ freeze on
throwed off shoutout to z-ro
i’m a lady k!ller cee-lo
shoutout to the h-town, r.i.p sweet jones
yeah
ill couture up on my crewneck, i don’t sweat her, cause later when the door close, she’ll give my crew neck
f-ck with w-lly, you’ll get suplexed
so many head jokes, what do i do next?
got two girls, they on my b-lls, they hittin’ falsettos, and that’s a duet
we do it, do it, this boy is the rudest
if i give a b-tch a job,then her job is to be my nudist
gotta’ team full of real n-ggas, we don’t talk, boy we conference
only real n-ggas fit in my circle, and you don’t fit the circ-mference
[verse 2: deezil]
whole bunch of bad b-tches, call me a dog catcher
fcoe, we summer hot, and yall n-ggas fall after
got that illcouture on my body, all i need to do is call baxtyr
n-gga your b-tch be my basket and i dunk the ball so nasty, ugh
i tell her slow it down, while she goin’ down
yeah she in my circle, when she not around
dreads on my head,treat em’ like a crown
give her that royal d-ck, then pay her off a pound
they say the world is round, i will surgically reshape that ho
cold, hot, n-gga b-tch, i’m so outta sp-ce—-
n-gga you ain’t f-ckin’ with deezil
got a b-tch stuck on that refill
got thc in my d-ck cells baby come be a big chiefer
these n-ggas don’t know nothing
like how the f-ck your ho cuffing
she w- my shxt, thats a small pack to yo’ m-ffin
how the h-ll is you frontin’, but in front of me i see nothin’
fly carteels a head, nothing else above it
i’m goin’ off, f-ck your favorite rapper
i’m not your favorite rapper, i’m your favorite’s master
say you got more than one, sh-t, bring batches
put it on a platter
make it more than matter
i know they only wish a n-gga would slip
black & mild n-ggas get the f-ck up off my woodtip
i don’t speak too much
as you can tell
what you know about-fly carteel
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