Vince Staples – Yeah Right Lyrics ft. Kendrick Lamar & KUČKA

Vince Staples - Yeah Right Lyrics ft. Kendrick Lamar & KUČKA
Vince Staples - Yeah Right Lyrics ft. Kendrick Lamar & KUČKA

Vince Staples – Yeah Right Lyrics ft. Kendrick Lamar & KUČKA

Chorus:
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
“Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right”
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
“Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right”
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
“Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right”
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
“Boy yeah”

Verse 1:
Is your house big? Is your car nice?
Is your girl fine? Fuck her all night
Is you well paid? Are your shows packed?
If your song played, would they know that?
How the thug life? How the love life?
How the workload? Is your buzz right?
Do the trap jump? Is the club right?
Got your head right? Boy, yeah right

Chorus:
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
“Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right”
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
“Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right”
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
“Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right”
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
“Boy yeah”

Verse 2:
Pretty women wanna slit the wrist
Pretty women wanna be a rich man’s bitch
Pretty women want a couple kids
Pretty women want a new ass, new lips
Pretty women wanna push a Benz
Come correct and she won’t let you in
Thumbing through the checks, she gets it in
Diamonds on your neck, is them pretend?

Chorus:
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
“Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right”
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
“Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right”
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
“Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right”
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
“Boy yeah”

Bridge:
Got an enemy that changes depending what direction
You’re facing
Got an enemy that tells you off, blocking what’s efficient
You’re placed in
You pretend to get a better idea about the lifestyle
You’re chasing
Keep pretending that you real
Until every selfie is erased

Verse 3:
Pop ’til it’s faking
Pop ’til the wrist pop
Pop ’til he shaking
Pop like four on the floor been in rotation
No allegation
Popular demand, I understand my name is only for conversation
New York nigga be like “deadass”
L.A. nigga be like “on the dead homies”
I was off the porch like Fed-Ex
211, got bread on me
K-Dot twilight the zeitgeist
Roll like fried rice and tempura shrimp
Temporary pimp, nah, don’t remember them
Just canary yellow gem, jumping out the fucking gym
Swang like new Dana Dane, I ride dirty
Paid like two Damon Wayans, retire early
Fade like shadows, corralling the cattle
A bitches decision for you, is narrow
Collision, the money, and fame, the pharaoh
The physic, the chemist, the lame
Collateral for Kendrick whenever exchange
Compatible for riches with more to gain
A sad nigga? Yeah right
I don’t fair fight but I bear fight
Looking for my next roadkill for the headlight
Hanging though my last four kills for the highlights
My life, high life, high five, bye, bye

Chorus:
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
“Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right”
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
“Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right”
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
“Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right”
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
“Boy yeah”

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