Yeat - Balënci Feet Lyrics

No way! Smokin', I'm all in my way, slidin'
Let's go, aye, aye
Talk about this shit real quick
Yeah, turn up, real quick shit, real quick

Stepped out Saturday, Balenciaga feet
Say yo' pockets February
Just where yo' pockets be
Say they doin' this and doin that
Boy you not as hot as me
Coach told me hit like every time
This why you started me
Bitch I'm on these percs got
A bag on from me, you just startled me
Bags, hundreds, bags yeah
Why you always bother me?
Every time you got a problem
Like why the hell you callin' me?
I can't even show what the hell I been doin
'cause they all copy me
Rolls Royce 4-Door truck, know I'm coppin' it
Suicide doors on the Corvette, I'm moddin' it
We just got back to the Hotel
Yo' bitch is slobberin'
Take so many damn percs, they like
"What you bottling?" drank man scored
He just told me he got bottles in
They think that they rappin' 'bout some shit
Boy that's just a common saying
Still gon' get to the cheese everyday
Fuck what yo' commas say

I just threw away my phone
I don't wanna conversate
Racks on me, bands on me
Watch her dance on me, dance on it
I'ma smash on her, smash on it
Gettin' way too silly, throw some cash on her
He told me that she love me for real
Well I almost passed on it (Haha)
All this shit so silly
The way they cap about it (Trackhawk)
Remember I had that car in like two months
I still won't cap about it
When I had that Jeep on Jeepers Creepers
Pushin' two hundred mid at night
You could lean with me one time and
I swear I could change yo' life trust me
You won't even feel like the real
You when that EDD hit twice
She said Yeat, why you still got so much
I don't even know why
Man I swear the last time I took that
Shit I talked to my demon and cried
Yeah we all humans
Yeah you don't have to lie
Richard Mill', Aston Martin, one of a kind
In my dm, Can I get that shit for free'
Stop wastin' my time
I been standin' up for all these years
I'm next in line
When I get that bag, that bag
Take my trip and die
Just hope I go up, before I end up dyin'
All these broke ass penny pinching kids
Get off my line
They say, Yeat where you at? you not Alivë
I don't remember life
Nobody really got yo' back, boy
You just a lie
'Cause you ain't really solid like that
You switching sides
Track came with an ice pack
Like put my thighs

Stepped out Saturday, Balenciaga feet
Say yo' pockets February
Just where yo' pockets be
Say they doin' this and doin that
Boy you not as hot as me
Could you tell me, hit like every time
This why you stuttering
Bitch I'm on these percs got
A bag on from me, you just startled me
Bags, hundreds, bags yeah
Why you always bother me?
Every time you got a problem
Like why the hell you callin' me?
I can't even show what the hell I been doin
'cause they all copy me
Rolls Royce 4-Door truck, know I'm coppin' it
Suicide doors on the Corvette, I'm moddin' it
We just got back to the Hotel
Yo' bitch is slobberin'
Take so many damn percs, they like
"What you bottling?" drank man scored
He just told me he got bottles in
They think that they rappin' 'bout some shit
Boy that's just a common saying
Still gon' get to the cheese everyday
Fuck what yo' commas say

I just threw away my phone
I don't wanna conversate
Racks on me, bands on me
Watch her dance on me, dance on it
I'ma smash on her, smash on it
Gettin' way too silly, throw some cash on her
He told me that she love me for real
Well I almost passed on it (Haha)
All this shit so silly
The way they cap about it (Trackhawk)
Remember I had that car in like two months
I still won't cap about it