Vince Staples

Yeah Right
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right (Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right) Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right (Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right) Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right (Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right) Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right (Boy yeah) Is your house big? Is your car nice? Is your girl fine? Fuck her all night Is you well paid? Are your shows packed? If your song played, would they know that? How the thug life? How the love life? How the workload? Is your buzz right? Do the trap jump? Is the club right? Got your head right? Boy, yeah right Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right (Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right) Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right (Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right) Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right (Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right) Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right (Boy yeah) Letras de canciones Pretty women wanna slit the wrist Pretty women wanna be a rich man's bitch Pretty women want a couple kids Pretty women want a new ass, new lips Pretty women wanna push a Benz Come correct and she won't let you in Thumbin' through the checks, she gets it in Diamonds on your neck, is them pretend? Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right (Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right) Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right (Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right) Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right (Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right) Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right (Boy yeah) Got an enemy that changes dependin' what direction You're facin' Got an enemy that tells you off, blockin' what's efficient You're placed in You pretend to get a better idea about the lifestyle You're chasin' Keep pretendin' that you real Until every selfie is erased Pop 'til it's fakin' Pop 'til the wrist pop Pop 'til he shakin' Pop like four on the floor been in rotation No allegation Popular demand, I understand my name is only for conversation New York nigga be like "deadass" L.A. nigga be like "on the dead homies" I was off the porch like Fed-Ex 211, got bread on me K-Dot twilight the zeitgeist Roll like fried rice and tempura shrimp Temporary pimp, nah, don't remember them Just canary yellow gem, jumping out the fuckin' gym Swang like new Dana Dane, I ride dirty Paid like two Damon Wayans, retire early Fade like shadows, corrallin' the cattle A bitches decision for you, is narrow Collision, the money, and fame, the pharaoh The physic, the chemist, the lame Collateral for Kendrick whenever exchange Compatible for riches with more to gain A sad nigga? Yeah right I don't fair fight but I bear fight Lookin' for my next roadkill for the headlight Hangin' though my last four kills for the highlights My life, high life, high five, bye, bye Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right (Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right) Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right (Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right) Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right (Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right) Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right (Boy yeah) From Letras Mania