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Ya Feel Me Video (MV)






Key Glock - Ya Feel Me Lyrics
Official




(BandPlay)
Mm-hmm, ayy

Money comin', money goin' (ayy)
Bitches, bitches, hoes hoein'
South Memphis nigga, nine foreigns
Sneak dissin' ain't no time for it
Hood rich, rockin' Tom Ford, baby choppa like 5'4
Countin' gualla got my thumbs sore
Copped another watch 'cause I was bored (yeah)
I got money runnin' through my pores
Yeah, I'm up, but I want some more (uh)
Yeah, I'm up, check the scoreboard (uh)
I get money like it was a chore (lil' bitch)

I got voices in my head, keep on sayin' "Boy, let's get it"
I got bitches on my dick, and I got niggas in my business
I got Wock' Wock' in my kidneys and I piss all on your feelings
Yeah, I got the double R truck now I want the one with no ceilings
Uh, yeah (ya feel me?)

Ayy, I been gettin' so much money, don't know what to do with it
Ayy, I been countin' so much money my head just start spinnin'
Ayy, and speakin' of spinnin', my young nigga just did it
Uh, no cap, I'm ballin' out, they like, "Glock, you wicked" (baow)
I been sippin' so much Wock', like motherf*ck my kidneys (Wocky)
I just pulled up in a yellow school bus, but no kids in it (yeah)
Courtside on the floor, sippin' on a four, watchin' the Grizzlies (swisher)

Yeah, money comin', money goin', got rich off of streams and tourin'
Yeah, ballin' like the Final Four, got bitches tryna make a porn
Ex-bitch talkin' 'bout she torn, had to leave on her like a forest
Think about money when I yawn, yeah, it's on my mind every mornin' (bitch)

I jump up out the bed, gettin' to the bread, middle fingers to the feds, yuh
Play you in the red, choppas on your head, now a nigga is (shh), yuh
I ain't gotta say it, why would I say it? Niggas know I ain't playin', yuh (why?)
I'm already playin' with a bag, I ain't playin' 'round with none (nigga)
Yeah, I barely trust my fam', nigga, I pull up they're like "Damn," nigga
Put a hunnid racks on a Ram, nigga, in the choppa with a hundred rams, nigga
Yeah, the choppa little but it sound bigger (fire), these nigga hoes just sound killa
Gang get to steppin' like Pam, nigga (yeah, yeah, yeah)

Money comin', money goin'
Bitches, bitches, hoes hoein' (yeah)
South Memphis nigga, nine foreigns
Sneak dissin' ain't no time for it
Hood rich, rockin' Tom Ford, baby choppa like 5'4
Countin' gualla got my thumbs sore
Copped another watch 'cause I was bored (uh, lil' bitch, yeah)

I got voices in my head, keep on sayin' "Boy, let's get it"
I got bitches on my dick, and I got niggas in my business
I got Wock' Wock' in my kidneys and I piss all on your feelings
Yeah, I got the double R truck now I want the one with no ceilings
Uh, yeah (ya feel me?)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




(BandPlay)
Mm-hmm, ayy

Money comin', money goin' (ayy)
Bitches, bitches, hoes hoein'
South Memphis nigga, nine foreigns
Sneak dissin' ain't no time for it
Hood rich, rockin' Tom Ford, baby choppa like 5'4
Countin' gualla got my thumbs sore
Copped another watch 'cause I was bored (yeah)
I got money runnin' through my pores
Yeah, I'm up, but I want some more (uh)
Yeah, I'm up, check the scoreboard (uh)
I get money like it was a chore (lil' bitch)

I got voices in my head, keep on sayin' "Boy, let's get it"
I got bitches on my dick, and I got niggas in my business
I got Wock' Wock' in my kidneys and I piss all on your feelings
Yeah, I got the double R truck now I want the one with no ceilings
Uh, yeah (ya feel me?)

Ayy, I been gettin' so much money, don't know what to do with it
Ayy, I been countin' so much money my head just start spinnin'
Ayy, and speakin' of spinnin', my young nigga just did it
Uh, no cap, I'm ballin' out, they like, "Glock, you wicked" (baow)
I been sippin' so much Wock', like motherf*ck my kidneys (Wocky)
I just pulled up in a yellow school bus, but no kids in it (yeah)
Courtside on the floor, sippin' on a four, watchin' the Grizzlies (swisher)

Yeah, money comin', money goin', got rich off of streams and tourin'
Yeah, ballin' like the Final Four, got bitches tryna make a porn
Ex-bitch talkin' 'bout she torn, had to leave on her like a forest
Think about money when I yawn, yeah, it's on my mind every mornin' (bitch)

I jump up out the bed, gettin' to the bread, middle fingers to the feds, yuh
Play you in the red, choppas on your head, now a nigga is (shh), yuh
I ain't gotta say it, why would I say it? Niggas know I ain't playin', yuh (why?)
I'm already playin' with a bag, I ain't playin' 'round with none (nigga)
Yeah, I barely trust my fam', nigga, I pull up they're like "Damn," nigga
Put a hunnid racks on a Ram, nigga, in the choppa with a hundred rams, nigga
Yeah, the choppa little but it sound bigger (fire), these nigga hoes just sound killa
Gang get to steppin' like Pam, nigga (yeah, yeah, yeah)

Money comin', money goin'
Bitches, bitches, hoes hoein' (yeah)
South Memphis nigga, nine foreigns
Sneak dissin' ain't no time for it
Hood rich, rockin' Tom Ford, baby choppa like 5'4
Countin' gualla got my thumbs sore
Copped another watch 'cause I was bored (uh, lil' bitch, yeah)

I got voices in my head, keep on sayin' "Boy, let's get it"
I got bitches on my dick, and I got niggas in my business
I got Wock' Wock' in my kidneys and I piss all on your feelings
Yeah, I got the double R truck now I want the one with no ceilings
Uh, yeah (ya feel me?)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Krishon O'Brien Gaines, Markeyvius Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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