Yeat's track delves into myriad aspects of opulence, self-assurance, and the consequences of a high-octane lifestyle. The lyrics unravel the artist's indulgence in drugs and luxury, as well as his dismissive attitude towards those not in his inner circle. With lines referencing extravagant purchases, such as a G65, and habitual drug use, Yeat depicts a life unbound by financial constraints and societal norms. The recurring theme of loyalty and exclusivity is evident as he navigates friendships and relationships on his terms. Furthermore, the recurring notion of "turning up" alludes to his relentless pursuit of euphoria and success. Ultimately, the track encapsulates the dichotomy between the allure of wealth and the detachment it can bring.
On tha linë
Lyrics
Yeah, how does he does it? (Rah, yeah)
Stuck in the mix, mix pills, yeah, 'cause I love it (phew, yeah)
Forty-five seconds, you in and you out for a dozen (phew)
Yeah, and this money too far, gonna save that shit, I won't touch it (yeah)
Back off a shot, gon' break, kick back like buckets
Snappin' the fakes in my circle like Kit-Kat does it
I can take your lil' bitch if I want to, yeah, but I doesn't (but I doesn't)
I just chopped up the G65
Took it straight out the shop, take it back to my house (woo)
They ask how the hell I make money
I couldn't even tell 'em 'cause I don't know how (rah)
Turn up that bih' 'til it blazin', yeah
Turn up the bih' 'til it bounce (yeah)
We too far gone, couldn't save that shit
So Perc'd out, yeah, on the couch (yeah, yeah)
I'm a big dog, yeah, you a mouse, yeah
Can't even rock with us, you not a boss, yeah
I done invented this shit, all my sauce, yeah
And I'm gon' rock out at every show, yeah (hold up)
You not my twin, you not my bro (hey, hey)
Everywhere I go, I'm takin' my plug
Yeah, we drippin', it's syrup, that's aight no trippin'
Sippin' on syrup all day, couldn't hold it in, I'm pissin'
He done put everything on the line, on the kid, now he end up missin'
When you got a lot of money comin' in
Then you better start the big tippin' (flip it)
Yeah, how does he does it? (Rah, yeah)
Stuck in the mix, mix pills, yeah, 'cause I love it (phew, yeah)
Forty-five seconds, you in and you out for a dozen (phew)
Yeah, and this money too far, gonna save that shit, I won't touch it (yeah)
Back off a shot, gon' break, kick back like buckets
Snappin' the fakes in my circle like Kit-Kat does it
I can take your lil' bitch if I want to, yeah, but I doesn't (but I doesn't)
I just chopped up the G65
Took it straight out the shop, take it back to my house (woo)
They ask how the hell I make money
I couldn't even tell 'em 'cause I don't know how (rah)
Turn up that bih' 'til it blazin', yeah
Turn up the bih' 'til it bounce (yeah)
We too far gone, couldn't save that shit
So Perc'd out, yeah, on the couch (yeah, yeah)
I'm a big dog, yeah, you a mouse, yeah
Can't even rock with us, you not a boss, yeah
I done invented this shit, all my sauce, yeah
And I'm gon' rock out at every show, yeah
Writer(s): Jonathan Hernandez, Noah Smith, Pablo Sanchez
Copyright(s): Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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