Testi Yayo - Fabolous

Yayo

Yayo, all I know is yayo\nEvery time she hit the block, that ho she be on go mode\nAnd if you try to rob me, swear to God that be a no-no\nSauced up and I’m loco and you niggas know so\nShout out to my day-o, innie, yayo\nThat white shit put me on the bread, I should call it mayo\nAnd my niggas go all out, I should call 'em AO\nThat choppa lay you down, you can’t get up, I call it KO\nYeah, J.O., that’s what I call jump off\nYour baby momma on the dick, and she don’t wanna jump off\nSucka found out, hit the roof and jumped off\nIt’s fucked up that a jump off, made a nigga jump off\nYeah, Pablo, Griselda and Chapo\nFeeling like King Pin, vacation in Cabo\nBossed up, El Fabo, no money, no hablo\nTwo bottle of Diablo, all I know is yayo (Niice)\nYeah, yayo, yeah, I just say yayo\nTaste just like the candy cane but whiter than that pure snow\nAnd why you try to play me, and you know you selling wuapo?\nWhen you with the boss, then I got to say so\nAye, oh no, hit these licks like oh no\nCounting all this mula paper, you can call it mucho\nCause I be rockin' all this paper, movin' weight like macho\nI be eatin' nacho, cheese, guapo\nAye, vato, holler at amigo\nIf he gon' get them hoes and wrap 'em tighter than burrito\nI let 'em know I need them for the low, he need it pronto\nHe gon' ship 'em off, ptttiu! Torpedo!\nI swear, ha-haaah\nYayo, yayo, all I know is yayo\nIt feels some type of way, our dudes know I let that K go\nCouple dudes is nice, the rest of y’all just in the away tho\nThe coke is from Colombia, the kush is from LA tho\nI get it in the mail, I got some people on the pay-roll\nLet it sit they like it even better when it’s a day-old\nMoney sure will get you shot, stabbed or K. O'd\nWheneva I say go, y’all know, they know\nExtendo out the window, motherfucker, broad day-do\nDevil with the pitchfork or the angel with the halo\nSpanish mami with me, fat ass J-Lo\nWhen she ask me what I do I told her all I knew is yayo\nAye, it’s yayo on the block, when it’s hot like a mu’fucka\nThe price drop, homies cut like a mu’fucka\nThe homie turned to a chef and the fiends love him\nThese niggas on the block selling all day\nThey niggas living like Penny Hardaway\nNigga bust a whole bird down sellin' ounce to ounce\nFor you more money, but that’s a harder way\nHe just got out on motherfuckin' bail\nHe just got a pack in the motherfuckin' mail\nPush it overseas, «How it’s smell?»\nNiggas like: «Ooh, that’s that Scarface!»\nOoh, this shit look sauteed, ooh it smell so tart, eh\nWe movin' work like Hova moved the Nets to Barclay\nOh, we them niggas, oh, we got them hittaz\nOoh, that yayo bakin' soda freein' like yo niggas"\nHold up, shh, on the phone, niggas don’t talk now\nCause niggas get in that interrogation room and they bitch out\nUh-oh!\nYayo, yayo, all we need is yayo\nKillers on the payroll, clap, you sniff some yayo\nDikeman got that yayo, Heights got that yayo\nForlter got that yayo, Broadway got that yayo\nYayo, yayo, trafficking that yayo\nIf they pull us over, Buju Banton with that yayo\nBeaucoup with that yayo, Coo Coo with that yayo\nSoda all inside, chicken noodle with that yayo\nPablo and Diego swallowin' that yayo\nFlights from Republic, damn it doodoo in that yayo\nMy nigga down south got a plug on that yayo\nCatch me up top 'bout fifty for that yayo\nHaaan! Coke Boy\nAll I know is yayo