Correction Lyrics I EAT GOOD by YN Jay

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Lyrics

You cannot smoke with me, we don't smoke the same
Keep it on, man
Yeah, what you doin', man?
Keep it on, man (Yep)
Let's get it on, man
Hey
They like, "Aw, man"
Sh*t
Alright
Hah, okay

Pulled up with a big b*t*h like I eat good
I just slid down a n***a block in a Fleetwood
Please throw that weed in the garbage, it got a— alright
Please throw that weed in the garbage, it got a weak pull
I'll park this b*t*h in your house if— ah
I'll park this b*t*h in your house if the street full
Flint came to take over the game, we got the key to it
Chartin' higher than your favorite rapper, I'm a street n***a
Ten milli' glued to my hip, I go to sleep with it
I just hopped in my trick bag, this a flea flicker
Spittin' fire in this b*t*h now, left the beat injured
Pull up in a real racecar with one seat in it
Kinda f**ked up, I upped dog, you can keep this one
If you shoot, my n***a shoot, he a defender
You got your first gun at eighteen, you a beginner
Oh, you talk behind my back? You a sneak disser
You wanna learn the Flint flow? We'll teach n***as
Oh, you got booboo weed? You can keep this one
She done sucked everybody d**k and you keep kissin' her
OG don't smoke Backwoods, he smoke all Swishers
I wish my n***a Dre was here so I can ball with him
My n***a only 5'4", he got a tall pistol
When I used to fall off, I used to call Crystal
Big bullets in the .308, we shot all missiles
Ain't too many b*t*hes in this world that'll fall with you
Big Backwood in the hood, stuffed a log in it
Jay finna run his money up, I'm finna jog with him

All your kids suckin' on your t**ties, you got dog nipples
Call of Duty, if I airstrike, I can call missiles
N***a, you ain't even got no gun, that's your dog pistol
Beat a n***a a** karate style, it was all jitsu
Twenty-three hundred for the dog, that's a cheap bully
Pickin' on n***as broke as hell, you a cheap bully
Fill the bullets up to the top, got my heat fully
I just hit the yeah on my Glock, got my heat fully
Drop ninety-seven out a hundred, let my heat cool
B*t*h walkin' with some lil' feet and some big shoes
Know a b*t*h with a flat a**, but got big boobs
I can see your b*t*h in the club, she on my d**k too
She f**k everybody in the city, you pay rent too
Oh, you talkin' 'bout like you payin' for other n***as to like, stay at her crib? Or like, you mean, like—
B*t*h throw doonies— damn
B*t*h throw doonies from the back, she— ah
B*t*h throw doonies from the back, she suck d**k too
Bony b*t*h dancin' in the club, I see sticks move
You the type that flash your b*t*h money, that's your b*t*h blues
You ain't know I had my gun on me? I'm the stick dude
B*t*h ask, "Who the Coochie Man?" That's the pimp dude
Bad b*t*h coochie good as f**k, it got grip too
Punch a n***a dead in his— ah
Punch a n***a dead in his mouth, he got a chipped tooth
Count a million dollars out in cash, it's a big move
Built my oldie up from the ground like I'm Chip Foose
Open haters ridin' down the street, make that b*t*h poop
Ooh, it's a big deuce
All-gold Desert Eagle on me, got some kick to it
Take over the world, they can't f**k with this Flint music

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