Lil Yachty & Veeze - CANT BE CRETE BOYS
[Verse 1: Veeze]
Fuck 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'm rockin' the Concrete Air Force 1, I can't put the price on
My twin got big ass stones in the ear, look like he did a heist [?]
[Verse 2: Lil Yachty]
My mama paid three thou' for a bag, can't even put her phone in it
Paid too bitty cash for gold, Patek ain't even have stones in it
You niggas so soft, cut 'em boys up and ain't got no balls in 'em
Fuck around, foul, spill some blood all over my Chrome denim
Nigga mad at me, be mad at your ho, what the fuck is wrong with him?
Y'all took that [?] and I'm intentionally doin' a song with him
I TSU, I seen him with everywhere, nigga, we hot
You niggas so lame, gotta rock their jewlery inside the house
Ain't fuck with these niggas, I'm master, moving around like a bastard
Ain't goin' back and forth with no sucker ass
Nigga, we [?]
First nigga tugged on my chain, make an example, make a disaster
I like my hoes, no face no case, my bitch straight out Nebraska
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