Artist: Rich Homie Quan
Album:  ABTA: Still Going In (Mixtape)
Song:   Yeahhh
Typed by: AZ Lyrics

I'm in love with types of bitches, you regular type of nigga
Be tryna get in my business, but couldn't run in my business
These niggas they in they feelings, can't hide em because we see it
These niggas claiming they real till they true color revealed
Used to do nothing but steal, till I did that lil bid
At every game I would win, they would think that shit was real
That pussy pink like a pig and that ass is like a hog
Find out that bitch stealing, tie her up then put her out
Find out she ovulating, hit her up then pull it out
Why she claiming that my baby when I fucking pulled it out?
I told that bitch, "Swallow these babies and don't fucking spit 'em out"
(Why? Why? Why?) ‘Cause they might grow up to be something real special
You can't never trust nobody, never trust nobody
Cold-hearted motherfucker never love nobody, never love nobody
Remember staying with my mama then I turnt up the skreet
No heat, remember being cold so I bought me a mink
At fifteen jumped off the porch, landed straight in the skreet
Still stop at Gresham Citgo just to get me some sweets
Shout out [?], [?], shout out [?]
Shout out the 6, ‘cause that's my zone, shout out to PDE

[Chorus]
Hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey yeah, hey yeah, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey yeah, yeah, yeah
Hey yeah, yeah, yeah

I keep my pistol on ready, ‘cause I don't live for the moment
Shorty claiming she want me, but I pass to the homies
She suck around on my meat, like a piece of bologna
She asking, "Quan, do you got me?"
I tell her, "Get some insurance"
Okay now dish my detergent, I wipe my hands when they dirty
Because all day, all day, I've been running through this money
These bitches be flirtin', I fucked that hoe for no purpose
I swear that all day, all day, I've been running through these condoms
Tell me why, maybe you know
They underestimated me, it hurt they heart, when I broke
Came back in the motherfuckin' trenches
Tight shirt on with some Balmain britches
Them lame niggas over there but I hit all they bitches
I hit all they bitches, to the point, that I fucked them, and don't call them bitches
I ain't saying what I'm doing may be right
But when I do it, boy, I give the [?]
Jump out the hot box, police on me, I'm dodgin' the car
I see all my cars in the lot, be careful they watchin'
Nah, be careful they got it now, be careful I got jailed
The code word, we call it, "Christmas" when we talking bail
I made a oath and told myself I wouldn't go back to jail
Wound up in the courthouse with a Gucci sweater on, a nigga got higher than Hell
But I ain't give a damn, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah
And I don't give a damn if my partner get locked up, accept all the calls
Where I'm from, we ain't seeing shit, we ain't heard of shit, and we don't talk
And every nigga take a loss, that's how you come back, that make you a boss

Thought I was gone, psyche, got 'em
Her natural hair long, what I like about her
This ain't even all of my shit, this ain't even all of my whips
These ain't even all of my bitches, y'all ain't even all of my niggas

[Chorus]
Hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey yeah, hey yeah, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey yeah, yeah, yeah
Hey yeah, yeah, yeah