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You Broke lyrics

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Yg – You Broke lyrics

You broke – shut up
Don’t talk to me, get your bread up
And we used to fuck but I got fed up
We eatin’ ...
All my, all my feta
You broke – shut up
Don’t talk to me, get your bread up
And we used to fuck but I got fed up
We eatin’ ...
All my, all my feta

You won’t rap, that fuckin’ throwback
I’m some crack
You ain’t gotta be a scientist to know that
Been to that money, nothin’ before that
Bitch I’ll do you dirty, dirty like a floor mat
Yeah I’m tired of hearin’ about what you need
I’m tired of preparin’ for your weeks
I’m tired of you fuckin’ me, tryin’ to get pregnant
Knowin’ if you had a baby you’ll say you fuckin’ couldn’t help it
I be ridin’ through the city bumpin’ 2 Chainz
I ain’t worried ‘bout the police, I got two names
Keep the sharp ‘cause sometimes you gotta do things
She give away that pussy like loose change
Tryna have a nigga baby, the ceiling never…
This ain’t recess, bitch you know I don’t play-play
Just bought a… just took a vacay
Nigga you too broke, you need to call Triple A, eh?


[Verse 2:]
How you fuck for cash but you not a hoe?
And how I’m gon’ respect you if your pockets broke?
On your rap sheet a whole lot of bros
It’s a clinic on Western but you out of dough
You’re broke, your pussy stink, you borrow clothes
Lost the little guap that you had playin’ with your nose
I dedicate this to my last bitch
Swear I got cash and started actin’ like a…
Catch up, keep up, Cutlass with the beat up
I be buyin’ pounds, so naw we can’t peace up
Rollie with the crown, bet you wanna fuck the king, huh?
It’s money over bitches, never fuck this thing up
She still fainted when she seen us
I’m a Grade A nigga, youse a C+
I got a room a got a broom, bitch, clean up
Hit the blade, and play my fee up


[Verse 3:]
You shoppin’ at Louis when your baby need Wick
You some broke niggas, wouldn’t know you need shit
You sick – you triflin’
I heard in the ‘hood your bitch cyclin’
Nobody wifin’ yours…
Young nigga got money, no yeah
Fast money, fast bitches takin’ hot baths
And me and relations don’t last
I’m hustlin’, hustlin’, got the bands on my Scotty Sandow
I’m hangin’ out the window, bangin’ out the widow
Throw it up chunky – wrists all chunky
I heard your pussy smell funky
And I ain’t used to what you’re used to
The only thing in your ear is a Bluetooth
You niggas ain’t blinged-out, 20 racks I blow that
5-10-15 I let my nigga hold that


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