"Hold Yuh Freestyle" lyrics
OK. I'm Wale but you can call me "Nada"
My momma a OG which makes me a Don Dada
My momma say I'm akata
'Cause my head look like shotter
The feds like to follow 'cause my bread like to knot up
So roll up the Marley, my eyes all low up in this party
I'm lookin' for an Ethi-Somali here beside me
Beside that, Louie where my eyes at
Prada where my feet's at
You ain't gon' find that
Ask me where my mind at
You could never find out
Riding I-95, haters in my hindsight
More About Nothing
Motherfucker better download
They don't stock sneakers, see my deals on the down low
Keep 'em in the closet, MJ Noami
I don't need no friends, let the ganja console me
My broad is a trophy
Broads out Moco broads out Southeast
Killer stay uptown, Louden VA tree
Never give my heart to hoes that want my play shit
Comme des Garcons, roam like it ain't nothing
Yeah that was nothing, but look what I made from it
Carmelo straight stunting
Purple label 8 hundred
I bet I get the fall Rozay had this summer
Real nigga shit
ATL was tipping them
Magic City tipping them
Gucci bucket cover my dreads: I think I'm Gilligan
I don't really mess with the feds, I'm a militant
If they not talking no bread than we ain't listening
Straight Lane Kiffen them
We ain't playing for rings and that trophy I mention before, I let em keep
Reggie Bush, I'm murking my Kardashian
Might as well crash and pass it to Miles Austin
That's how I'm going, hoes want but now I'm on
A couple poems, a couple songs, and now it's on
And these woman is loving the way that I perform
I like a down-lookin', all for it, flower bomb
Shout out my nigga miles
They stop the whole game every time I come around
And me and them rappers we don't share no common ground
I'm a sphere, they are squares
They can't even come around
I ain't finished yet, I ain't finished yet
Bitches love me out Houston like spinach dip
Get it
I got that cold flow, Winnipeg, this is work
I am in a different World, Winnefred
Jalisa all black Caprices
Bumpin' So Far Gone, goin' on polices
And me and my broads and Jamal and Latika
So every time I treat 'em, the mall gotta re-up
And ya'll better relax, talking 'bout that he wack
Or they be reminiscing over you, word to P-Rock
Ridin' in a CL, hope I never see jail
And even if I do I know my momma gon' be well
Emilola love her more than she know it
The youngest outta two, see Olubowale's grown up
When they hate, I never give a whole fuck, or half shit
Purple haze, purple half-cents
I had dollars for a young'un ever had cents
I have sins so my pants never had lent
Now I'm getting it everything lavish
I'm ballin' LeBron, little poncho is Maverick
Ravishing, Rick Rude of rapping you bastards
And I just want to hold her
She all that I can handle
My momma a OG which makes me a Don Dada
My momma say I'm akata
'Cause my head look like shotter
The feds like to follow 'cause my bread like to knot up
So roll up the Marley, my eyes all low up in this party
I'm lookin' for an Ethi-Somali here beside me
Beside that, Louie where my eyes at
Prada where my feet's at
You ain't gon' find that
Ask me where my mind at
You could never find out
Riding I-95, haters in my hindsight
More About Nothing
Motherfucker better download
They don't stock sneakers, see my deals on the down low
Keep 'em in the closet, MJ Noami
I don't need no friends, let the ganja console me
My broad is a trophy
Broads out Moco broads out Southeast
Killer stay uptown, Louden VA tree
Never give my heart to hoes that want my play shit
Comme des Garcons, roam like it ain't nothing
Yeah that was nothing, but look what I made from it
Carmelo straight stunting
Purple label 8 hundred
I bet I get the fall Rozay had this summer
Real nigga shit
ATL was tipping them
Magic City tipping them
Gucci bucket cover my dreads: I think I'm Gilligan
I don't really mess with the feds, I'm a militant
If they not talking no bread than we ain't listening
Straight Lane Kiffen them
We ain't playing for rings and that trophy I mention before, I let em keep
Reggie Bush, I'm murking my Kardashian
Might as well crash and pass it to Miles Austin
That's how I'm going, hoes want but now I'm on
A couple poems, a couple songs, and now it's on
And these woman is loving the way that I perform
I like a down-lookin', all for it, flower bomb
Shout out my nigga miles
They stop the whole game every time I come around
And me and them rappers we don't share no common ground
I'm a sphere, they are squares
They can't even come around
I ain't finished yet, I ain't finished yet
Bitches love me out Houston like spinach dip
Get it
I got that cold flow, Winnipeg, this is work
I am in a different World, Winnefred
Jalisa all black Caprices
Bumpin' So Far Gone, goin' on polices
And me and my broads and Jamal and Latika
So every time I treat 'em, the mall gotta re-up
And ya'll better relax, talking 'bout that he wack
Or they be reminiscing over you, word to P-Rock
Ridin' in a CL, hope I never see jail
And even if I do I know my momma gon' be well
Emilola love her more than she know it
The youngest outta two, see Olubowale's grown up
When they hate, I never give a whole fuck, or half shit
Purple haze, purple half-cents
I had dollars for a young'un ever had cents
I have sins so my pants never had lent
Now I'm getting it everything lavish
I'm ballin' LeBron, little poncho is Maverick
Ravishing, Rick Rude of rapping you bastards
And I just want to hold her
She all that I can handle
Writer(s): Madison Olds, Abby Wale, Robert Campbell, Bradley Stella
