Ya Feel Me Lyrics by Key Glock
(BandPlay)(BandPlay)
Uh, aye
Money comin’, money goin’ yeah
Bitches, bitches, hoes, hoes
South Memphis n****, nine foreigns
Sneak dissin,’ ain’t no time for it
Hood rich, rockin’ Tom Ford, baby choppa like 5’4
Count guap, it got my thumbs sore
Copped another watch ’cause I was bored (Yeah)
I got money runnin’ through my pores
Yeah I’m up, but I want some more
Yeah I’m up, check the scoreboard, I get money like it was a chore (Lil’ bitch)
I got voices in my head, keep on sayin’ “Boy, let’s get it.”
I got bitches on my dick, and I got n***** in my business
I got Wock Wock in my kidneys and I piss all on your feelin’s
I got the double R truck now I want the one with no cеilings (Ya feel me?) (Aye)
I been gettin’ so much money, don’t know what to do with it (Aye)
I been countin’ so much monеy my head just start spinnin’ (Aye)
And speakin’ of spinnin’, my young n**** just did it
No cap, I’m ballin’ out, they like “Glock, you wicked.”
I been sippin’ so much Wock, like motherfuck my kidneys (Wock)
I just pulled up in a yellow schoolbus, but no kids in it
Courtside on the floor, sippin’ on a four, watchin’ the Grizzlies
Yuh, money comin’, money goin’, got rich off of streams and tourin’
Yeah, ballin’ like the Final Four, got bitches tryna make a porn
Ex-bitch talkin’ ’bout she torn, had to leave on her like a forest
Think about money when I yawn, yeah, some of mine every mornin’ (Bitch)
I jump up out the bed, gettin’ to the bread, middle fingers to the feds (Yuh)
Pay you in the red, choppas on your head, now a n**** is (Fu, Fu, Fu)
Yuh, I ain’t gotta say it, why would I say it? N***** know I ain’t playin’ (Why?)
Yuh, I’m already playin’ with her bag, I ain’t playin’ ’round with them (N****)
I barely trust my fam’, n****, I pull up they’re like “Damn,” n****
Hundred racks on a Ram, n****, in the choppa with a hundred rams, n****
Yeah the choppa little but it sound bigger, these n**** hoes just sound killa
Can’t get to steppin’ like Pam, n**** (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Money comin’, money goin’
Bitches, bitches, hoes, hoes
South Memphis n****, nine foreigns
Sneak dissin,’ ain’t no time for it
Hood rich, rockin’ Tom Ford, baby choppa like 5’4
Count guap, it got my thumbs sore
Copped another watch ’cause I was bored (Lil’ bitch)
I got voices in my head, keep on sayin’ “Boy, let’s get it.”
I got bitches on my dick, and I got n***** in my business
I got Wock Wock all in my kidneys and I piss all on your feelin’s
I got the double R truck now I want the one with no ceilings (Ya feel me?)