Letra de ' Yay Yay ' de ScHoolboy Q

Had pistols in my hands, had pockets full of oxys
Whole life I been a g, had bitches on the block
Had strippers on the pole, had cocaine in the pot
Got fiends at the door, so I turned that to a rock
That yay-yay (that yay-yay) that yay-yay (that yay-yay)
That yay-yay (that yay-yay) that yay-yay (that yay-yay)
That yay-yay (that yay-yay) that yay-yay (that yay-yay)
That yay-yay (that yay-yay) that yay-yay (that yay-yay)

I'm a drug dealing nigga, cause them grades ain't get me paid
My agenda for today is to make bread or get laid
See my daughter need some shoes and my mom work overtime
So I'm standing by that stop sign with nickels and them dimes
Keep that work, got that oxy, need that kilo, call that papi
Know my steelo, shrimp with sake, sold that her-on, look like toffee
Keep my nina, just might off him, no them boys on figg don't play
Most my life on 51st, went to school on 52nd
Used to fight on 49th, grandma said be home by night
But her old ass sixty something, so three hours late aight
Still I love her, r.I.p., when she died, I took her place
And became a fucking g, moved my crack across the street

Figg get it, get it, yeah
Drug dealing nigga (yawk, yawk, yawk)

Had pistols in my hands, had pockets full of oxys
Whole life I been a g, had bitches on the block
Had strippers on the pole, had cocaine in the pot
Got fiends at the door, so I turned that to a rock
That yay-yay (that yay-yay) that yay-yay (that yay-yay)
That yay-yay (that yay-yay) that yay-yay (that yay-yay)
That yay-yay (that yay-yay) that yay-yay (that yay-yay)
That yay-yay (that yay-yay) that yay-yay (that yay-yay)

I'm a drug dealing nigga, roll my cyc' on hoover's street
Just a year after pac died we all bump suga free
Didn't know what he was saying 'til them years done jumped to three
Learned the game, slanging hoes and every car door need a key
Charge them smokers day through night, selling pies who need a slice
Life is craps so shoot the dice, get the cheese but cut the mice
Enemies be left to right, we don't call our shit the trap
Bitch we call our shit the set, unless we od with reynold's wrap
After crack it's oxy next, but thank god the yay was yay
Off the yee like it's the bay, rock a chain I'm kunta k
Out in texas what's the word, keep them packs and that's for sure
Slang to him and slang to her, ask a fiend they will concur

Figg get it, get it, yeah
Drug dealing nigga (yawk, yawk, yawk)

Had pistols in my hands, had pockets full of oxys
Whole life I been a g, had bitches on the block
Had strippers on the pole, had cocaine in the pot
Got fiends at the door, so I turned that to a rock
That yay-yay (that yay-yay) that yay-yay (that yay-yay)
That yay-yay (that yay-yay) that yay-yay (that yay-yay)
That yay-yay (that yay-yay) that yay-yay (that yay-yay)
That yay-yay (that yay-yay) that yay-yay (that yay-yay)