"Hatër" lyrics
"Hatër"
(Yeah) I came with the blick, I just brought the fire (Bah)
I can't fuck with none of these lames, they all fuckin' lie (What?)
Bitch, you know this get insane, you could fuckin' die (Yeah, yeah)
I just pulled up in a Bentley, it got frog eyes (Yeah, woo, yeah)
I'm a fire guy, walked inside the building with some grease, I'm serving Five Guys
You ain't got no racks, ain't got no bags, you can't even fuck with us, ah
You ain't got your swag, ain't got no bags, you can't even fuck with us, ah
They some haters, they ain't fuckin' with the mob, ah
Bitch, you broke, that wasn't me, it's not my job, nah
All my money do a jump and do a job (Luh jump), ah
We gon' pull up with the blick, yeah, we gon stretch him (Bah-bah-bah)
All my pockets overloaded, it's overwhelming, ah
How you know 'bout all this shit? Man, you a fuckin' spy (What?)
We got mob ties, baby got a felon
Fuckin' on your thot, she suckin' dick, she bring the mail in (Go)
Bitch, I get the head, I get her melon
Ridin' 'round the city like a demon, like a villain
Bitch, I take these percocets all day, I ain't got no feeling
Ridin' in a double-R Tonka, baby, stars in the ceiling
Ooh, yeah, hey, walkin' in the building, I'ma gon' pull it up
We been up all day, I'm off adderall (Okay)
I just pulled up in a Lamb', no I'm not your friend (Fuck 'em)
Fuckin' on your thot, fuckin' on your friend (Fuck 'em)
I can't fuck with nobody that's not my best friend (Not my friend)
I just bought a brand new chain, a brand new necklace, yeah
Ridin' in a Bentley, ridin' in a turn
I can't fuckin' with nobody, I'm standin' firm
I just took a percocet, I took a crank, I'm insane
(Yeah) I came with the blick, I just brought the fire (Bah)
I can't fuck with none of these lames, they all fuckin' lie (What?)
Bitch, you know this get insane, you could fuckin' die (Yeah, yeah)
I just pulled up in a Bentley, it got frog eyes (Yeah, woo, yeah)
I'm a fire guy, walked inside the building with some grease, I'm serving Five Guys
You ain't got no racks, ain't got no bags, you can't even fuck with us, ah
You ain't got your swag, ain't got no bags, you can't even fuck with us, ah
They some haters, they ain't fuckin' with the mob, ah
Bitch, you broke, that wasn't me, it's not my job, nah
All my money do a jump and do a job (Luh jump), ah
We gon' pull up with the blick, yeah, we gon stretch him (Bah-bah-bah)
All my pockets overloaded, it's overwhelming, ah
How you know 'bout all this shit? Man, you a fuckin' spy (What?)
We got mob ties, baby got a felon
Fuckin' on your thot, she suckin' dick, she bring the mail in (Go)
Writer(s): Divjot Abhol, Yeat
- AZLyrics
- Y
- Yeat Lyrics
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