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I EAT GOOD
by
YN Jay
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Lyrics
You cannot smoke with me, we don't smoke the same Keep it on, man Yeah, what you doin', man? Keep it on, man (Yep) Let's get it on, man Hey They like, "Aw, man" Sh*t Alright Hah, okay Pulled up with a big b*t*h like I eat good I just slid down a n***a block in a Fleetwood Please throw that weed in the garbage, it got a— alright Please throw that weed in the garbage, it got a weak pull I'll park this b*t*h in your house if— ah I'll park this b*t*h in your house if the street full Flint came to take over the game, we got the key to it Chartin' higher than your favorite rapper, I'm a street n***a Ten milli' glued to my hip, I go to sleep with it I just hopped in my trick bag, this a flea flicker Spittin' fire in this b*t*h now, left the beat injured Pull up in a real racecar with one seat in it Kinda f**ked up, I upped dog, you can keep this one If you shoot, my n***a shoot, he a defender You got your first gun at eighteen, you a beginner Oh, you talk behind my back? You a sneak disser You wanna learn the Flint flow? We'll teach n***as Oh, you got booboo weed? You can keep this one She done sucked everybody d**k and you keep kissin' her OG don't smoke Backwoods, he smoke all Swishers I wish my n***a Dre was here so I can ball with him My n***a only 5'4", he got a tall pistol When I used to fall off, I used to call Crystal Big bullets in the .308, we shot all missiles Ain't too many b*t*hes in this world that'll fall with you Big Backwood in the hood, stuffed a log in it Jay finna run his money up, I'm finna jog with him All your kids suckin' on your t**ties, you got dog nipples Call of Duty, if I airstrike, I can call missiles N***a, you ain't even got no gun, that's your dog pistol Beat a n***a a** karate style, it was all jitsu Twenty-three hundred for the dog, that's a cheap bully Pickin' on n***as broke as hell, you a cheap bully Fill the bullets up to the top, got my heat fully I just hit the yeah on my Glock, got my heat fully Drop ninety-seven out a hundred, let my heat cool B*t*h walkin' with some lil' feet and some big shoes Know a b*t*h with a flat a**, but got big boobs I can see your b*t*h in the club, she on my d**k too She f**k everybody in the city, you pay rent too Oh, you talkin' 'bout like you payin' for other n***as to like, stay at her crib? Or like, you mean, like— B*t*h throw doonies— damn B*t*h throw doonies from the back, she— ah B*t*h throw doonies from the back, she suck d**k too Bony b*t*h dancin' in the club, I see sticks move You the type that flash your b*t*h money, that's your b*t*h blues You ain't know I had my gun on me? I'm the stick dude B*t*h ask, "Who the Coochie Man?" That's the pimp dude Bad b*t*h coochie good as f**k, it got grip too Punch a n***a dead in his— ah Punch a n***a dead in his mouth, he got a chipped tooth Count a million dollars out in cash, it's a big move Built my oldie up from the ground like I'm Chip Foose Open haters ridin' down the street, make that b*t*h poop Ooh, it's a big deuce All-gold Desert Eagle on me, got some kick to it Take over the world, they can't f**k with this Flint music
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