Lyrics Dave East – Yes Indeed (EastMix)
Text:
We left him in critical
Death or a hospital bed is the minimal
I know some opps that try and act like fans when they see me
My nigga, I’m plottin’ to get rid of you
I knew this nigga since middle school
I talked about him when I did my interviews
I can’t wait for you to start, we gon finish you
Glock was a .40, the vodka was Pinnacle
Sayin’ we cousins, I never was friends with you
Backyard I swim when my daughter jump in the pool
Straight to the telly, not making no dinner moves
Flip out them corners in foreigns, we bend a few
Don’t kiss your wife, had her face in my genitals
Allergic to niggas, need Benadryl
Comfortable, I’m where the killers chill
Couldn’t go get him, they send him still
Wanted 15’s, that 30 a bigger pill
Talkin’ bout me like you know me gon get you killed
Bang at a nigga that won’t bleed
I don’t do the club ‘less the pole with me
Graveyard shit, got coke or weed
I know you suck dick, can’t smoke with me
Pineapple Fanta, I mix with a sip or two
I’m dirty, I failed all my physicals
Method Man in Belly, I’m in ya living room
My bitch from Costa Rica, she gon get it through
Bitch I’m a legend, they don’t really know what this pen could do
Championships, I’ma win a few
Maybach get hot, I’m so low in the rental, just spinnin’ through
I don’t care what color they come out in, I’ma get ’em blue
NYPD, like the Men In Blue
They lock you up and just try to delete all your memory
My daughter was born off of Hennessy
I remember bitches act like they ain’t remember me
Kush got me fried, like Kennedy
You couldn’t survive how we got it up in the street
I get you shot, I am not from the industry
I get you robbed, I am not from the label
We ain’t have no cable, now watch me on cable
Young rappers dissin’ these legends, I cannot respect it
We take everything, leave you naked
You claim you from the game, better believe we gon press you
Like NAS had a tech in my dresser
I get some product to measure
?, bag up them extras
I’m bout to charge up like I drive a Tesla
These rap niggas act just like wrestlers
Paper come ’round me, I’m scratching, no eczema
Niggas look down on me cause they ain’t never up
Bang at a nigga that won’t bleed
I don’t do the club ‘less the pole with me
Graveyard shit, got coke or weed
I know you suck dick, can’t smoke with me
Pineapple Fanta, I mix with a sip or two
I’m dirty, I failed all my physicals
Method Man in Belly, I’m in ya living room
Had niggas in your crib, like they live with you
We purging, I call all my hittas through
Lying for followers, I never been with you
If it’s bout a dollar, my niggas gon get at you
Take off that Yankee, yeah we want your fitted too
We zip-lock him, you dick hoppin’
Every week you with a different crew
You rattin’ if you brought the witness through
Get a buck fifty, like it’s ten of two