Yacht Master Songtext

Holy moly
This bitch want me and the homies, so

Came in this bitch
It's a shame I ain't make a fuckin' film, damn
Pills in my pocket tee
And I stay smokin' on that fuckin' kill
Know I gotta swang through
Bangin' my shit, that other shit weird
I'm the fresh prince of the city
Got dranks in the back room, chill, check this out
Got Franks in my pocket, they chillin'
Lot of faces on me so I never get lonely
Seen that mothafuckin' Porsche Carrera and got a boner
I don't fuck with freeloaders, nah

Yacht Master Rollie
Some cameras just landed on me, out of nowhere
Holy moly, damn
This bitch want me and the homie, cool Yacht Master Rollie, ayy
The cameras just landed on me, what's up?
Holy moly
This bitch want me and the homies, so

She shaved off everything 'cept for the landin' strip
I'm on them 22s just like the Emmett Smith
You see me killin' shit, reapin' the benefits
You work from 9 to 5, I work from 10 to 6
Up all night hustlin'
Yellow gold like mustard
Been told 'em pass the Grey Poupon
Back when I had a cutlass
Y'all niggas just rusty
I put your bitch on a Huffy
Now we're talkin' paper, boy
Crip on a hundred acres, boy
All you do is hate with your boy
You act like a snake with your boy
You act like a fake with your boy
My pockets lookin' like they ate your boy
Damn... holy moly
I don't know if she wanna fuck me or my Rollie
Even Cartier lenses can see that you're phoney
Anybody seen your style can tell that you stole it

Yacht Master Rollie, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Some cameras just landed on me, we're rolling
Holy moly, damn
This bitch want me and the homies, so
Yacht Master Rollie, ayy
The cameras just landed on me, what's up (out of nowhere)
Holy moly
This bitch want me and the homies, so