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Lyrify.me

We Right Here by Yung Saran Lyrics

Genre: rap | Year: 2014

[Intro]
I'm on it (x2)
When we in the club
Bitches hit the pole
Mommy get to twerking
Money on the floor
'Cuz my niggas right here
We right here (x3)

[Verse 1]
Yung won't stop 'till I make it rich
Call me for a feature if you want a hit
Mommy gonna call 'cuz she want the dick
And I be going hard like I'm made of bricks

But I'm made of winning
Nigga never made a brick
When I hit the club
I got women wanna take a pic
Niggas keep your day job
Yung Saran killing shit
Rap game mine and these niggas that I'm dealing with
Young braided nigga
And these hoes, they be feeling it
Intelligent nigga, but that liquor bring out the ingonrance
Hoes be trying to flirt, liquor got them belligerent
Telling mommy to twerk, that ass it get to jiggling
Riley about his work
I'm all about them benjamins
Going in for the cake
Cutting right through the middlemen
Beats I gotta bake
Tracks I leave them sizzlin
Getting fresh in my socks
Strapping out like some gentlemen
[Hook]
When we in the club
Bitches hit the pole
Mommy get to twerking
Money on the floor
'Cuz my niggas right here
We right here (x3)

When we in the club
Liquor gonna flow
Mommy can you work it
Baby let me know
'Cuz my niggas right here
We right here (x3)

[Verse 2]
Bitches hatin already
Your nigga ain't even signed
Steady losing my patience
I blame it all on my grind
Focus on where I'm going
Y'all haters can 9 to 5
You suckers can stay away
Y'all fuckers wasting my time
We popping off at the mall
Chilling chasing them digits
Every nigga that hate
I'ma take it out on your bitches
Beat that pussy so vicious
I leave it out of commission
Schooling these fucking suckers
Y'all all should pay me tuition
Young reezy [?] or Riley Freeman
They shaking it when they see me
Love hitting that pussy
Its sweeter than diabetes
Love making this money and break it up with my niggas
The more we step out this bitch
All these bitches is coming with us
[Hook]

[Verse 3]
Money over the bitches
I'm MLB [?] to the grave
Got nothing over the ends
Except a couple of friends
We steady looking for paper
It must be calling my name
Nigga i ain't Obama
I'm tired of messing with change
Money for rainy days
Portfolio full of stocks
Have a couple of chickens to sit around looking pretty
These niggas doubting my ways
How many hits do I got
Aside from chasing these riches
I do it all for my city
Tryna put in position
And get my niggas these riches
Steady plotting my moves
These haters is opposition
But really who competition
I'm always gonna be on top
Like missionary with bitches
And give a fuck what you thought
How the hell could I flop
When these bangers I make is hitting
Its only a small percentage
Of everything that I got
Story telling is big
A reckless nigga like pac [?]
Rondo [?] in this recording
I triple double my knots
[Hook]