Da Fuck versuri

Versuri Tezzus – Da Fuck lyrics

[Chorus: Young Thug]
I’m uppin’ the score if you playin’ (Yeah)
You pussy, I’m showin’ my ass (Yeah)
I could’ve had bought her a clutch (Yeah)
I got his ass whacked for a band (Yeah)
The fuck is you talkin’ ‘bout? (Yeah)
You pussy, know right where you layin’ (Yeah)
I don’t care who with you (Yeah)
We flippin’ the whole fuckin’ van (Yeah)

[Verse 1: Young Thug]
I told the ho, „Lovin’, no lust”, I’m never gon’ follow the trend
I showed her a million plus, and now the ho tell me I’m him
No trippin’, I go grab the SIG (Yeah), I’m drivin’ the freaks on land (Yeah)
They found that boy feet in the sand (Yeah), that’s just what he get for that playin’ (Yeah)
We servin’ dope, take care of the bitches and the folks
I keep it real, for real, ask God if I’m a player
Eighty-five pointer carats
You can take my bitch, you can have it (Huh)
When I’m poppin’ this shit, I get raspy (Huh)
I’m sick at this shit with a passion
Got bricks in the motherfuckin’ pale
I was tellin’ herm „Bitch-niggas real”
I just spent a Bugatti on a trip
I’m a rockstar, I’m the deal (Let’s go)
I’m one, I know good with the TEC (Yeah, let’s go)
Let my young niggas eat off a plate (Yeah, let’s go)
Told my driver to take me to space (Nigga, let’s go)
I’m from [?]
[?] 20k [?]
I go Metro Bloomin the weed (Let’s go)
I’m spicin’ up, fuck with the Track (Let’s go)
I’m Spider, we trippin’ on weed (Woo)

[Verse 2: Rylo Rodriguez]
I’ll take some pints for a verse (Okay)
Copped me a thousand a Birk’
She left heroin of my shirts
Showed up ‘fore it turned into merch
I gave my lil’ sister a Kelly bag, my momma said it look like a purse
Don’t ask about me, it’s turvy
I ain’t ask for the price, it’s surgin’
Spend Hermès over her son
Baddies with me, Natalie Nunn (You trippin’)
This year, I’m throwin’ triumphs (Yeah)
Two semis, one on my arms

[Verse 3: Tezzus]
We up, bitch, you trippin’
We have our gun in the hand (Uh-huh)
Every time I wanted that man
We went and put on the mask
Now I wake up in Japan (ØWAYY)
You cruise, the mafia tax
Now I wake up to the bands
Count two hundred thousand in cash
Now I wake up to some head
The bitches hate me, talk to the hand (Talk to the hand)
Lil’ bitch tryna give me face, I hit that ho, no date
Two watches, still showed up late
Two lines, ain’t buyin’ my drank
Too much money, sippin’ on Qua’
I don’t even know this bitch name
The fuck is you talkin’ ‘bout?
I’m goin’ Helmut Lang
I’m going AP, plain
I’m goin out of my brain

[Chorus: Young Thug]
I’m uppin’ the score if you playin’ (Yeah)
You pussy, I’m showin’ my ass (Yeah)
I could’ve had bought her a clutch (Yeah)
I got his ass whacked for a band (Yeah)
The fuck is you talkin’ ‘bout? (Yeah)
You pussy, know right where you layin’ (Yeah)
I don’t care who with you (Yeah)
We flippin’ the whole fuckin’ van (Yeah)

[Outro: Young Thug]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh-huh, huh, huh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh-huh, huh, huh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh-huh, huh, huh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh-huh