 
wavy crete - babyface ray & lil yachty lyrics
[intro: lil yachty & babyface ray]
(i just need my sp*ce right now)
yeah, this sh*t don’t sh*t, still goin’
pour my cup and sh*t still flowin’ (uh, yeah)
it’s us (yeah)
this sh*t don’t sh*t, still goin’ (this sh*t ain’t [?], n*gga, you know?)
she still waitin’, she need to stop
it’s us
[verse 1: babyface ray & lil yachty]
two c’s, two cups in a old school with a new sl*t (for real)
barry bonds juiced up, right left wrist (d*mn) that’s a new truck (right wrist)
bad b*tches, rich n*ggas, crew love, she don’t know who to f*ck (she don’t know)
louis timbs, booted up, get her some, now she wanna shoot me up (now she wanna, d*mn)
yeah, flip words, flip cane, roof flippin’, ridin’ down biscayne
turnt but ain’t sh*t change big pistol make a n*gga limp strange
man, you know this sh*t crazy, n*ggas get some money and ’em get lame (yeah)
get money, f*ck fame (d*mn), i got more than n*ggas with a big name (okay)
n*ggas call me big bro, keep the b*tch from ’round me or she gettin’ crushed
grown man, n*gga, hush, plain jane cost more than yo’ bust
[verse 2: lil yachty & babyface ray]
new benz, old benz, same friends, new grin on my mouth
big crib, same addy, push up on me, shoot a n*gga’ right dead in his mouth
big steppa, who me? i ain’t tryna be n0body top three
good hoes gone wild, off top, this sh*t ain’t nothin’ to me (okay)
caddy v, supercharged, hit the pedal, sh*t hits like el debarge
late night, high roller, six figures posted up at the mirage
geekin’ with a superstar, trust fund baby, just wanna suck the ball (okay)
ten chains, in the hood burnin’ rubber, know a n*gga lookin’ like a god
y’all be droppin’ tape after tape after tape, time to go get a job
know this sh*t make these n*ggas sick, lil’ miles will never stop (yeah, yeah*yeah)
[verse 3: babyface ray & lil yachty]
most of my n*ggas deal or rob, dead pres’ make a n*gga feel alive (that’s a fact)
n*ggas back to back in traffic, me, doggy ridin’ like ricky bobby
how you slime get slimed? f*ck n*gga, come and get in with the mob (what’s the issue?)
in the coupe talkin’ to a god, truth be told, that’s only the n*gga ridin’ (ruff, ruff, ruff)
fill the section up with vibes, when i leave, i told ’em get in single line (yeah)
v6 goin’ loud, had to pour a cup of lean to bring me down (pop it)
these boys live a lie, get it in while these n*ggas gettin’ by (yeah)
f*ck n*ggas talkin’ foul, make a call, we can put ’em in the sky (yeah)
[verse 4: lil yachty]
numbness in my hand, geekin’ on ten, sh*t to the moon (yeah)
hittin’ this b*tch and her friend, i don’t get sprung, i don’t jump brooms (alright)
feel like obama ‘nem ’cause, yes, we can get n*ggas boomed
look like osama ‘nem, my hoe get bored, she can’t leave the room (what?)
f*ck that, n*gga don’t pop it like him, i move like kim, this b*tch gon’ ooze
b*tch wanna play with jewels, big old cuban sit on her b00bs (that’s right)
move around with a short fuse, n*ggas be p*ssy, make ’em pay dues
f*ck all that sack on juice, i like sh*t sealed, i don’t do loose (nah)
and i don’t drink no wine, my b*tch do crimes, i’m moving like slime
hoe said i said i love her, i must have been lyin’, that b*tch ain’t mine (yeah)
diamonds all over my arms, just me and face, that’s really my kind
these n*ggas ain’t my kin, yeezy sh*t, i’m a don
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