ASAP Mob - Yamborghini High (with Lyrics & Subtitles)
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ASAP Mob - Yamborghini High (en) Lyrics
By RentAnAdviser.com
Yamborghini-high, Lambo by the crib
This is how it is, yeah,
these niggas fake
No, we can't relate
Boys get Yamborghini-high,
Lambo by the crib
This is how it is, this is how we live
Bitches, bitches, bitches, bitches
Yeah, I'm gettin' cake,
yeah, it's no debate
Yeah, I fornicate with foreign hoes
that I date, like, every day
Yeah, yeah, I rock the Raf,
yeah, I bought the Wraith
Yeah, I'm out of state,
yeah, I like to race
Yeah I'm, yeah I'm, yeah
I'm, yeah I'm, yeah
I wake up late, yeah, I'm out of
shape, yeah, I'm eatin' crêpes
Yeah, I'm sippin' wine, yeah,
she feed me grapes
She make no mistakes, me
make no complaints
I love how she think she graduated
with that brain
She go to
Tool on my waist, shades on my face
Money in the bank, make no mistake
Nast does it great
Yeah, hoes wanna fuck,
car parked out front
7:45 on the fuckin' dot,
your bitch down to ride
Leavin' wit' me 'cause I'm a G
Made in the streets,
rep for the streets
So I keep a piece
Niggas try to front, act if he want
Act like he tough, end up in
a box layin' on the side
My mama told me save that money, bank
accounts, don't spend that bread
Cash out on new necklaces,
14 karat bracelet
Dibble dabble with the lean
High-tech with the cream, soda
As I whipped the yola
Lambo red, Coca Cola
My bros, Cosa Nostra
Ridin' on a speedboat
She suckin', lickin', deepthroat
Rey Mysterio
When I'm jumpin' off the top rope
Banana clip with the scope
Wearin' all white
Like I'm the mothafuckin' Pope
I'm on a Yamborghini high, flyin'
high through the sky, hey yo
Yammy's vision got us rich, catch
a nigga flyin' by in a Lambo
Sippin' the Henny got me gone, now
I'm gettin' in my zone, hey yo
R.I.P. to my nigga, the gallon
goin' to my dome, hey yo
This how it feel to be rich, fuckin'
bitches in the mix, yeah
Where the chiquitas is at? Yamborghini
with the shits, yeah
Lil Newport lit, Young Lord
with the shits, yeah
I ain't with the game, bitch,
she blow my cartridge, yeah
My jewelry glistening why
I’m always chilly
Can't believe a nigga
made a couple milli'
'Bout to cop the house
way up in the hillies
With a bad bitch in the Bentley
Wood grain with the roof gone
Make a bitch fold like a futon
Gettin' bread like a crouton
Tell me what the fuck is you on
(OG, nigga keep it low key
Coolin' in the low ride
Tourin' with the Rollies
Rollin' cheifin' OG
Damn I got the smoke right
Let you gain floor seats
Foreign hoes, foreign freaks,
all that on the boat trip
Nigga I'm a OG
Gotta it for the dope fiends,
product of the dope game)
Kushed out, leaned out, know
what I'm talkin' 'bout
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