We Da 1's ft. Hector G Lyrics

Yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh Y'all niggas know I had to run it again With my niggas Hector bruh

Let's go

Ayy, what the glizock say?

Woah

Came in fucking shit up, Joe Biden

Money grew taller and a nigga still silent

Told a bitch I love her, Sike bitch, I'm lyin

Grew up on a jungle, yeah, bitch, I'm a lion

Bitch mad at me cause I don't do marriage

All my fuckin' clothes came straight from Paris

Your niggas talkin' too much, they be lookin' like a parrot

Yo bitch a lil' bunny, she be suckin' on my carrot, bitch

Woah

Now watch what I do

Fuckin' your bitch in the back of my coupe

Talkin' too much, now he breathe through a tube

All he can eat is hot noodle soup

Cuffin' a hoes, yeah, yeah, you a fool

You don't be carryin' no fuckin' tools

Keep me in the choppers, I keep me like two, let's go

sneakylink on Tuesday and my main bitch on the weekend

I can never love the same bitch, yeah, you bitches tweakin

And we be on fuckin' gang shit, have your bitch ass leakin

And we be on no lame shit, we hustle on the weekends

I be turnin' baby mamas into motherfuckin' hoes

Niggas want some fuckin' drama, come and find me, I want smoke

Even my dog fuckin Dior B carryin' a lil' pole

Bitches skeezin', niggas tweakin', niggas got so much jealousy

Feww

Fahhh,Fahhh,Fahh

Fahhh, let's go, let's go

Fahhh, Fahhh, whoa

Came in, fuckin' shit up, Joe Biden

Money grew tall and a nigga still silent

Told the bitch I love you, sike bitch, I'm lyin

Grew up in a jungle, yeah, bitch, I'm a lion

Bitch mad at me cause I don't do marriage

All my fuckin' clothes came straight from Paris

Your niggas talkin' too much, they be lookin' like a parrot

Your bitch a lil' bunny, she be suckin' on my carry, bitch

I got riches on the way

Hit the gas, don't touch them brakes

Grab my AK, make it spray

I need more green on my plate

Try to run but It's too late,

this final clip will seal your fate

I'm always winnin' every race

Don't think that you can take my place

This green I got is fuckin' lace

It's always paper that I chase

We always line up for that yay

And we do this every day

I can't kill, I need propane

When I walk by you for rain

All this money need a cane

You're a bitch that I can tame

Keep my paper stackin

Got no guns, still packin

In my chair, I'm hackin

Attractin' money magnets

Tryna Snitch like Candace,

my fortress layered sandwich

Got a team I manage

And we ain't average

We got racks, bitch

Racks on top to racks, bitch

Woah, we got cash, bitch

All up in our pockets

Inna white Impala With my nigga fuckin' Rick

Cruisin' through the fuckin' streets

Subs bumpin' up, bitch

UHHHHUUUHHH