YoYo

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Andy the Chef

2:40

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Call that bitch a yo-yo
I throw her, she come back
Call that bitch a no no
She don't know how to act
And if you got that shit on lock
Then why she sitting on my lap
Cuz my shit slap, and I'm sitting on a stack
Call that bitch a yo-yo
I throw her she come back to me
And all these bitches fake, could be made in a factory
And all these niggas snakes, while they wait
I just laugh see
Cuz while they get no money, I'm just getting to my bag
Now I'm shitting on my ex, fucking on the next
Fucking with these, yo my liver is a mess
Thank God I'm blessed, Thank God He's real
Thank God I'm here, and thank God I feel
Cuz these niggas is so heartless
These niggas is so clueless
Lookin at my past thinking
Why the f*ck I do this
My new bitch a nudist, yeah she getting naked
That chick is a trophy, you want it Imma take it
I can hoop for the Lakers, cuz I got the skill
Yall think I'm worth a rack, but I'm sitting on a mil
She throw it on a nigga, she hoe-in for a nigga
I ain't f*ck with her at first, now she growing on a nigga
So I call that bitch a yo-yo
I throw her, she come back
Call that bitch a no no
She don't know how to act
And if you got that shit on lock
Then why she sitting on my lap
Cuz my shit slap, and I'm sitting on a stack
Call that bitch a yo-yo
I throw her she come back to me
And all these bitches fake, could be made in a factory
And all these niggas snakes, while they wait
I just laugh see cuz
While they get no money, I'm just getting to my bag
(My bag, my bag, my bag)
Wasn't worth a grip, now I'm gettin to them commas
Them niggas talking shit, lowkey all up in they mamas
She wanna twerk it for a nigga, like some maracas
Said go ahead
Bust down thotiana
Like a bitch
The money running back to me
Andy cooking up, that's a fact to me
Rhyme after rhyme, that's a bag to me
She like papi can you spend another stack on me
Like step, bitch don't step to a nigga, gah damn
She always tryna flex with a nigga, I am
The realest and the flyest, no fake to my game
I can't work witcha, too much weight on my name
They watch a nigga pockets like a race to the chain
So when I throw em out, they come runnin back again
Yall slippin up, like you need a pick-me-up
All yall niggas baby soft, lemme get the sippy cup
I spend it then get back to the bread like I'm Frodo
I aim then it's shots to your head like a photo
Them white girls love a nigga ice, call me froyo
So when I throw her out, she come back like a yo-yo
Like a yo-yo

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