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lirik lagu hangover – yn jay, sada baby & skilla baby

[intro: yn jay]
ayy

[verse 1: yn jay]
real street n*gga in the kitchen wrappin’ ‘bows when it was christmastime
told a b*tch i’m finna leave, don’t forget your sign
like a watch fully bustdown, barely see the time
b*tch got a wig and makeup, but she still fine
they say the water deep as f*ck, but i’ma still dive
i be in the hood with the b’s, it’s a real hive
me and bro don’t got no handshake, we slap five
hit this b*tch for thirty*seven minutes, got my back tired
buh*buh*buh*buh*buh, b*tch, ah
buh*buh*buh*buh*buh, sh*t
buh*buh*buh*buh*buh, beat the cat down
i growled at a b*tch, she said, “meow,” she made cat sounds
finna wwe this b*tch, she get smacked down
you can tеll we beatin’ out this spot, this a trap sound
you can touch your ceilings in your crib, that’s a flat housе
i’m only in your city twenty hours, then i’m back out
you ain’t got no beat in your car, where the speakers at?
it’s gettin’ cold as f*ck outside, where my heater at?
i’m finna beat somebody ass, where my beater at?
i’m finna pour a whole pint of wock’, where a two*liter at?
tryna buy a car off the lot, where a two*seater at?
this b*tch eat d*ck good, but i don’t feed her ass
beat her doonies down, she go back home, you tryna beat her ass
you a lil’ nasty freaky dude, you gon’ eat her ass
i could teach you how to get some money, you don’t need no class
get respect and i show respect, i don’t need no pass
catch a n*gga at a red light, bah*bah*bah*bah, i’m finna leave your ass
[interlude: sk!lla baby]
oh sh*t, f*ck

[verse 2: sk!lla baby]
oh sh*t, they shootin’ at the whip, i’m ’bout to smack the coupe
please put my hops on the floor, throw me an alley*oop (huh?)
i’ll get a n*gga noodled like campbell soup
bah*bah*bah, grab the whoop (huh?)
man, my opps ain’t no k!llers, they don’t got shooters
i’ll box a n*gga up, sk!lla zab judah
they said they said i’m a b*tch, who started that rumor?
that’s why i don’t like n*ggas, i be tryna fight n*ggas
huh, that’s why every week, i’m in the strikers tryna strike n*ggas
huh, real pit, f*cked up in the head, i’ll bite n*ggas
name good enough to get the bricks on consignment
give me that p*ssy, boo, i’ll introduce you to the coochie man
i finger b*tches with my right thumb, that’s my coochie hand
your head might not make me cum, but your coochie can
she put vinegar in the water, now she smooth again
she just let me f*ck, now that p*ssy loose again
huh, i ain’t showin’ up for free, man, you gotta pay
do i sound like yn jay?
long arms in the whip with me, dr. j
man, i keep my peace on me, namasté
got some haitian hitters in the whip with me, sak pase
hit a b*tch at 7:59, she was blocked by 8
told the police that was dennis graham’s, that’s not my drac’ (huh?)
drop my opp same day that i drop my tape (huh?)
i ain’t comin’ out my pod without my shank
my account in the negative, i’m ’bout to, ah
my account in the negative, i’m ’bout to rob my bank (hah)
[verse 3: sada baby]
i remember when the ojs was a thirty—
i remember when the ojs was a thirty*piece
tell a n*gga, “you not gettin’ money, you ain’t heard of these”
naw, n*gga, you not gettin’ money, them is purple jeans
naw, n*gga, keep on actin’ funny, be done murdered him
naw, n*gga, i’m the perfect n*gga for a murder scheme
naw, n*gga, get to stirrin’ dope, look like ovaltine
naw, n*gga, get to mixin’ sh*t, look like nesquik
naw, n*gga, get to shakin’ sh*t, look like egg beaters
naw, four*nick loud as h*ll like it had tweeters
naw, four*nick loud as h*ll like an amp on it
naw, four*nick got a light like a lamp on it
naw, fishscale still workin’, good compressor next to that
i’ll push a p*ssy n*gga like a pack
naw, got his b*tch p*ssy hooked on pipe like i’m crack
naw, chopper came from channel 47, samurai jack
purple drank came from channel 46, jimmy neutron
a wocky flurry, sip it, then i burp, tell your b*tch i moved on
naw, i can’t flirt and i can’t share no percs, tell a b*tch to move on
you get hurt, end up on a shirt and keep on gettin’ rerolled
talkin’ ’bout in the dirt, bl!cky out a vert, i can’t make it worse
get him murked, put him in a he*rs*, scared, go to church
watch me lurkin’, you know we gon’ swerve, his sister got some nerve
tried to act like i ain’t bag the b*tch without buyin’ no purse
make a promise, matter fact, it’s merch, sound like lil durk
press a n*gga just like he deserve, make his mama twerk
watch me slide down a n*gga block, it look like i’m surfin’
they keep dyin’ whenever they outside, n*ggas lookin’ nervous, ah*duh

- yn jay sada baby skilla baby

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