
Песня All About my Fetti в исполнении Young Lay - слушать онлайн в хорошем качестве или скачать трек в Mp3 бесплатно на ПК или телефон.
The definition of a playa hater: A busta A bitch with a dick A violator of the Sixth Bar of the Mack Game Busta with a complex "Man, you know that nigga Khayree fuckin Mac Mall out his money, man You know that nigga Lay ain't gon' get paid I heard Ray Luv in jail and shit" Little old bitch-ass muthafuckas Mac Mall Young Lay Ray Luv I'mma need y'all to come in, man I need the whole Young Black Brotha Records line-up to come in And spit some game to these lil' old bitches with dicks Playa-hatin busta-ass nuthin-ass niggas Now you nuthin-ass niggas check game Hey playa, don't it be a point in your life Where you just wanna smoke a muthafucka, man? (Fuck yeah!) Man you get to trippin on some of that wild shit Hoes and flauntin shit A nigga tryina kick back, man, you know Be real about his fetti though They all in a nigga mix What's up, Mac Mall, Ray Luv What's up, playas? Hey man, that be them inner way-ass niggas, Lay 'Cause it's like this, man: When my album came out, man Next thing you know it's a million muthafuckas in my face Askin me so many questions Shit... Young Ray Luv, what's up man? (Jealous-ass muthfafuckas...) Yo, we tryina come real about the fetti though (Hell yeah) That's right Check this out You know we all about that money, man Got no time to be trippin on that stupid shit Little old biaatch Ah, it's goin down (That's right) But anyway Who finna serve em some of that old pimp shit, man? (I think Ray Luv) Your nigga Young Ray Luv in the house (I think I'm finna come on first) Tell em muthafuckas [Verse 1: Ray Luv] One mo' time for the streets of Killa Cali Grew up on the dank and shootin' dice up in the alley Back when niggas had names like Rock Tee, Chin and Butta O.G. game from the muthafuckin gutter I guess it was cool when a nigga had no riches 'Cause niggas didn't P.H. and run they mouths like bitches Much love for the hood, what up, nigga, where's my homies? Show love for these niggas, but they ain't got no love for me Jealous as fuck when I got love from the Crest niggas But all I get is mean mugs from you West niggas Now that I think these muthafuckas is so funny Gon' peel a nigga's cap for a trick-ass nobody (Mac Mall: You better check your heart and your brain, mayne I think you niggas need to get up on some game, mayne) Picked up on your hoe, I'm gettin jocked by your steady All I want the money though, I'm all about my fetti Nigga [Chorus: Khayree & (Ray Luv)] Money money money's all I know I gots no time to waste with you trickin punk-hoes Money money money's all I see You need to get some game and quit fuckin with me Moneeey (I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey (I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey (I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey [Verse 2: Mac Mall] Now half of these niggas is falsified The rest is full of mess, so they tend to hide A lotta them is cowards who be actin hard Some is tired-ass tricks who will never get far Some is straight dopefiends tryina grind they lley But they still pushin pebbles to this muthafuckin day Some start funk over hoes and blame it on somethin else Them niggas need to check theyself But the sucker that I hate the most Is the busta full of envy, mad cauz he broke Every night he be stressin, thinkin that his hoe wanna get me I wouldn't fuck her with yo dick, she ain't got nothin to give me Cuz your nigga is broke, so hoe, I know you're starvin So you won't have to worry about Mac Mall harmin Your boyfriend and girlfriend relationship I got my money and my cuddies, who needs a bitch? Mac Mall will never get played I'mma stay Ses ways And you know I'm all about that money [Chorus: Khayree & (Mac Mall)] Money money money's all I know (That's all I know, nigga) I gots no time to waste with you trickin punk-hoes (Fuck them hoes and them niggas) Money money money's all I see (That's all I see in the Triple C) You need to get some game and quit fuckin with me (Stop fuckin with me) Moneeey (I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey (I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey (I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey (Yeah, my nigga Young Lay, come serve them fools) [Verse 3: Young Lay] Gettin blimped with a tramp up on a [?] confusin what's right To hide the doubt, so I grab my money and my lle', hey Why do us youngsters be so nervous? Niggas creepin all through these turfs Plus these po-po's tryin to serve us, yeah But I kick back and just act with my fuckin clan And kick that gangsta rap and spit about my gangsta macks On rap tracks and spit for those that copy free And give 'em they dap and tell 'em it ain't a day without drink and weed G's get stacked, now who's a mack, yeah, the nigga shook ya Ki's of crack get cut down, but but not by the cooker But yo, the crookers, watchin me all the time But I keep lookin and keep a nine by my spine Or to my side, 'cause when I ride you'll never know But if it's over some dough, Young Lay is quick to let it go And let him know, nigga, that this is loc side Home of the Mac, playa pros, squares run and hide 'Cause tonight we gonna do it just like this But if your ho is choosin, nigga, the mic's in my fist Some of this mixed with a whole lotta that Old threw in with new, it made my fetti fat [Chorus: Khayree & (Young Lay)] Money money money's all I know I gots no time to waste with you trickin punk-hoes Money money money's all I see You need to get some game and quit fuckin with me Moneeey (I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey (I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey (I'm all about my fetti) Moneeey Moneeey...Moneeey Moneeey...Moneeey Ah yeah Youknowmsayin? There it is right there And there you have it, muthafuckas Straight muthafuckin game From three pimpin-ass young playin-ass muthafuckas Ray Luv, Mac Mall, and Young pimpin-ass Lay Youknowmsayin? They just touched it on that 6th bar of them 32 muthafuckin bars You muthafuckin busta-ass niggas with complexes Broke punk-ass muthafuckas that always got your muthafuckin nose into somebody else shit Now what you need to be doin is gettin your own muthafuckin game tight You understand me? And eh - youknowmsayin Put some fetti in your own muthafuckin pockets 'stead of runnin round here talkin bout what the fuck is we doin, youknowmsayin? 'Cause we straight dwellin on the green Ain't got no time for the in-between, youknowmsayin? So all you busta-ass niggas Fuck y'all, we all about the fetti, mayne
