Yellow Tape Lyrics

[feat. Dee Low]

[Hook:]
Is that yellow tape shit
Cause all I do is kill shit
Got that body bad flow
I ain't running out of here
We just smoke like AOs
We ain't running out of here!
Bitch, just keep them bottles coming,
Tell em hoe we're out of here!
Yeah, I got 'em, yeah!
I got 'em, yeah!
Real nigga shit!
Yeah, I got 'em!

Is that yellow tape shit
Cause all I do is kill shit
I'm gonna be a [?]
DOA, real nigga every day
Pray the [?] hold aka
I need the bitch, fuck the bitch,
Leave the bitch same day!
All I smoke is that kill bill,
Two bitches on two pills
One neck got foe chains
[?] our big wheels
And my shit held of tight up
Your shit is my tire
I smoke you all like a house fire
Call a bitch on like an empire!
[?] on my scale, nigga
Features in my e-mail, nigga
I rap, hustling, my [?]
Can't reach me on my cell!
If it ain't about no mail
They can fuck till [?]
Over that dough flow we get loco
Got a [?] like a lil something.
Bitch know she ain't fucking me
All the bad features look at the nigga she with
All this chain fake, now look at them nigga he with
Even his man's thing!
[?] now what you all obtain?

[Hook:]
Is that yellow tape shit
Cause all I do is kill shit
Got that body bad flow
I ain't running out of here
We just smoke like AOs
We ain't running out of here!
Bitch, just keep them bottles coming,
Tell em hoe we're out of here!
Yeah, I got 'em, yeah!
I got 'em, yeah!
Real nigga shit!
Yeah, I got 'em!

I tell my bitches go sick 'em
(Kill, kill, kill)
All I rock is fucking prisons
(Kill, kill, kill)
Man, your whole click fake
Pop-pop-pop is the yellow team, aha!
I was just a mad [?]
With my cousin might mention
All these diamonds dancing
Flying through onyx with the sea hawks
Shout out my nigga, James, carpenter and [?]
Balling nigga, we're balling nigga
This [?] produce money.
Popping bottles, nigga
We're popping bottles, nigga
We're pouring champagne, all you want it!
Diamond man, hundred karats on my neck (kill!)
And I'm about to shop a deal, cut the check, mill!
I feel like it's all for your career, baby boy
Let Shwaty hang up next to your boy, baby boy!
I [?] butcher on my feet
(Kill, kill, kill)
I kill! Don't forget the diamonds be on me!
(Never!) That's real!

[Hook:]
Is that yellow tape shit
Cause all I do is kill shit
Got that body bad flow
I ain't running out of here
We just smoke like AOs
We ain't running out of here!
Bitch, just keep them bottles coming,
Tell em hoe we're out of here!
Yeah, I got 'em, yeah!
I got 'em, yeah!
Real nigga shit!
Yeah, I got 'em!