"Calm Down Boat" lyrics
(feat. Lil Yachty)
Mommy
I wan' know what it would sound like if Mak Sauce and Lil Yachty made a song
'Cause Mom, I love Mak Sauce and I love Lil Yachty
Can they make a song Mom? Please?
(Ayy, 'kay, nah, nah, come on, man)
Ayy, Yachty
Yachty!
My favorite part
(Damn, [?])
Mak Sauce, Boat!
My favorite part to—
Bitch!
My favorite part to droppin' this Faygo Cream
My favorite gun I got is a Glock ten-milly with a beam
I finally learned that all ain't good, only what it seems
I know it's suicide sippin' drank, but I love lean
I first fell in love with codeine when I was a teen
I told my dog, "We can get rich, why you actin' stingy?"
The real fuck wit' me 'cause I'm real, and it ain't really many
My nigga, don't get tricked out the bag playin' snake, it's plenty
Hmm, hmm, huh, move along
We ain't entertainin' rap niggas who do sing-a-longs
Opp pack, beatin' down his chest just like King Kong
Bitch thinkin' I'll apologize, nigga, we ain't wrong
Bitch suckin' dick like Kirby, but she hate all my songs
Where I'm from, it don't matter, I'm glad I made it out
All niggas do is chatter, they never shut they mouth
I ain't finished school, I was too broke, usin' EBT at Ralph's
Sixteen on a VPN, try'na bust a bend
Gettin' flights, hopin' that it strike on the other end
I might let her spend the night if she tell a friend
Good reviews, even if it's bad, bring in clientele
Bitch think I believe her every word, she ain't lyin' well
Scale broke, fuck the circumstances, we gon' eye it then
Scope on a stick like a micro-sized fryin' pan
I nut on her face, good foreskin like collagen
My lil' brother shoot better than me, like I play for Pelicans
Slugs in this jug knock the brains out a elephant
Niggas worry 'bout what I do, they not masculine
Nails painted, still gangbangin', BG chain slangin'
Chain hangin', earrings big-blangin', fuck what they thinkin'
Rolls Royce tank, black-on-black, we is not linkin'
Draft Day up next, five on it like Abraham Lincoln
Ten mill' without blinkin', Concrete Boys, know we ain't shrinkin'
God damn, Yachty, calm down (Bitch)
Uh, okay, get me groovy
I been gettin' blue cheese paper, nigga, loose leaf
Shoes came Gucci, neck, cheddar, hoochie
Drop low, get a nigga wrapped just like sushi
She was flat-back, now she big booty Judy
Turn him to a hashtag, roll 'em, Tootsie
Hop out, feet-feet hittin' just like Bruce Lee
Excuse me, nigga, hold up, what you want?
I get that pack and knock it out the park, home run
He a bitch, only gangster on the Samsung
Pull up, get a pussy nigga popped, and what?
Two clean sticks but a dirty handgun
I'll get that blick-blick, blocka-bam sum'n
Chrome Hearts tee, Margiela pants on
I pull up wit' them drums like the marchin' band comin'
She want champagne just like [?]
30 thousand on my wrist, left and right
Get that pack gone, trappin', Mr. Miyagi
Diamonds cold, them bitches hittin' like they boxin'
I went root beer, Yachty went cream soda
Get the fuck up out the spot, I don't know him, who his homie?
Diamonds dancin', I get my macaroni on
Drop a diss at nine, nine-oh-five, I'm try'na have him gone
I ain't goin' back and forth, I don't do no ping-pong
I drop a [?], I'm at a nigga door like ding-dong
Fuck a nigga thought, I'll get him popped for lookin' wrong
Oh-ah-oh, a'ight
That the end of the bitch?
Damn, the beat ended right there, I was gonna' keep goin' to it, nigga
Mak Sauce
I wan' know what it would sound like if Mak Sauce and Lil Yachty made a song
'Cause Mom, I love Mak Sauce and I love Lil Yachty
Can they make a song Mom? Please?
(Ayy, 'kay, nah, nah, come on, man)
Ayy, Yachty
Yachty!
My favorite part
(Damn, [?])
Mak Sauce, Boat!
My favorite part to—
Bitch!
My favorite part to droppin' this Faygo Cream
My favorite gun I got is a Glock ten-milly with a beam
I finally learned that all ain't good, only what it seems
I know it's suicide sippin' drank, but I love lean
I first fell in love with codeine when I was a teen
I told my dog, "We can get rich, why you actin' stingy?"
The real fuck wit' me 'cause I'm real, and it ain't really many
My nigga, don't get tricked out the bag playin' snake, it's plenty
Hmm, hmm, huh, move along
We ain't entertainin' rap niggas who do sing-a-longs
Opp pack, beatin' down his chest just like King Kong
Bitch thinkin' I'll apologize, nigga, we ain't wrong
Bitch suckin' dick like Kirby, but she hate all my songs
Where I'm from, it don't matter, I'm glad I made it out
All niggas do is chatter, they never shut they mouth
I ain't finished school, I was too broke, usin' EBT at Ralph's
Sixteen on a VPN, try'na bust a bend
Gettin' flights, hopin' that it strike on the other end
I might let her spend the night if she tell a friend
Good reviews, even if it's bad, bring in clientele
Bitch think I believe her every word, she ain't lyin' well
Scale broke, fuck the circumstances, we gon' eye it then
Scope on a stick like a micro-sized fryin' pan
I nut on her face, good foreskin like collagen
My lil' brother shoot better than me, like I play for Pelicans
Slugs in this jug knock the brains out a elephant
Niggas worry 'bout what I do, they not masculine
Nails painted, still gangbangin', BG chain slangin'
Chain hangin', earrings big-blangin', fuck what they thinkin'
Rolls Royce tank, black-on-black, we is not linkin'
Draft Day up next, five on it like Abraham Lincoln
Ten mill' without blinkin', Concrete Boys, know we ain't shrinkin'
God damn, Yachty, calm down (Bitch)
Uh, okay, get me groovy
I been gettin' blue cheese paper, nigga, loose leaf
Shoes came Gucci, neck, cheddar, hoochie
Drop low, get a nigga wrapped just like sushi
She was flat-back, now she big booty Judy
Turn him to a hashtag, roll 'em, Tootsie
Hop out, feet-feet hittin' just like Bruce Lee
Excuse me, nigga, hold up, what you want?
I get that pack and knock it out the park, home run
He a bitch, only gangster on the Samsung
Pull up, get a pussy nigga popped, and what?
Two clean sticks but a dirty handgun
I'll get that blick-blick, blocka-bam sum'n
Chrome Hearts tee, Margiela pants on
I pull up wit' them drums like the marchin' band comin'
She want champagne just like [?]
30 thousand on my wrist, left and right
Get that pack gone, trappin', Mr. Miyagi
Diamonds cold, them bitches hittin' like they boxin'
I went root beer, Yachty went cream soda
Get the fuck up out the spot, I don't know him, who his homie?
Diamonds dancin', I get my macaroni on
Drop a diss at nine, nine-oh-five, I'm try'na have him gone
I ain't goin' back and forth, I don't do no ping-pong
I drop a [?], I'm at a nigga door like ding-dong
Fuck a nigga thought, I'll get him popped for lookin' wrong
Oh-ah-oh, a'ight
That the end of the bitch?
Damn, the beat ended right there, I was gonna' keep goin' to it, nigga
Mak Sauce
