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Bitch Yeah Lyrics

Name Taken - Hold On For Your Dearest Life Lyrics

Bitch Yeah by YoungBoy Never Broke Again




Bitch Yeah
(Timmy Da HitMan)
Huh, what?
What? What? What? What? What?
What? What?

What's crackin'? What? (What?)
Or whatever I'm brackin' on, b**ch
Yeah, that my blood (That my blood), I got all Fives 'round this b**ch
These hoes wan' f**k, these niggas can't f**k with none of us in this b**ch
I'ma hit at your clique with the stick (Baow)
Make me turn your lil' boys to a lick (A lick)
I got stripper big booty b**ches blowin' up on my phone
Too much swag, stylist come, I try on clothes inside of my home
Put yo' b**ch in VLone
b**ch, play what you please long as you don't put no QC on
b**ch, I make you bleed, ho
b**ch, I know I bleed, ho
Bang a red flag, big B, ho (Hell, yeah)
b**ch, get on your knees, ho (Yeah, yeah)
Come on, suck it with no teeth, ho (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
I'm rich, I'm rich, I'm rich, b**ch, I'm rich as sh*t
Come get it, got to whip it
Know I got to whip it, nigga, come and get your b**ch
Molly, Molly, Holly, Wolly, had a thottie wit' a badass body
I don't play that sh*t, I keep that chopper
I might buy me a Maserati
Shoot that drum at that b**ch, it's a thottie
'Fore I give you my sh*t, you know I'ma pop it
b**ch, give me yo' soul, give me yo' body
Swag up, the b**ch pop out for mama
I get high in this b**ch, on soul
I'm so high in this b**ch, I'm gone
I might make her pack a nigga, b**ch, come touch your toes
Still'll make a R&B b**ch come here and hand off her phone
Give a f**k 'bout how good she can sing, b**ch, get that phone, yeah

b**ch, get that phone, ho
Huh, b**ch, get that phone, yeah-yeah
Huh, b**ch, get that phone, ho
b**ch, get that phone, oh yeah-yeah-yeah

My brothers, they kick in that door (Yeah-yeah)
I don't like that nigga, a ho (Yeah-yeah)
I don't like that lil' boy's b**ch
I do not like my ho for to hear none of these songs
Like when I breakin' her back to my songs
Makin' these b**ches take racks at home
Clingy type of time you on
Buy me clothes that fit me right
I don't know who f**kin' side you on
I just know that this wrong and they real right
I ain't f**kin' on her at night
I ain't put money on yo' head, that's right
Bang red, that blood, my thug, my Five
You know slime could get this party hype
Shootout, soon as I get outside
Rudolph, beam on his nose and eyes
Chew-out, which one gon' eat me right?
Geeky, lil' geek, I'm higher than high, uh-huh
I'm a geek, I been geeked and I'm higher than high, b**ch
I get higher with her when I'm shoppin' online, b**ch, yeah
I can get out my words through this everytime (b**ch, yeah)
Yeah, and this b**ch is a geek without you on my side (b**ch, yeah)
You not my slime, b**ch, don't play with my money you know you might die (b**ch, yeah)
I got factory tires on bottom of each of my rides (b**ch, yeah)
I got factory tires on bottom of each of my rides (b**ch, yeah)

I got more money than you lil' boys, y'all some b**ches (b**ch, yeah)
I can't even drive and got more cars, your sh*t is leased or rented (b**ch, yeah)
Know we make sh*t hype, pop out Rolls Royce, on back got switches (b**ch, yeah)
I don't give no f**k 'bout who a star, I don't want you b**ches (b**ch, yeah)





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