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Trae Tha Truth - Yeah Hoe Lyrics



Trae Tha Truth - Yeah Hoe Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring Lil' Boss, Problem ]

Aye ho, errday a nigga wake up I get dough
When I get that, next day get more
Go and ask if a nigga on, if ye ain't sure
If anything I be like yea ho, yeah ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho

Look I hustle, I'm talkin' like the gang that T.I. rep for
On that gangsta shit, like I was Pac when he was Deathrow
King off in these streets, I got it locked cause I won't let go
When they come to Houston, it's understood it's the West ho
All I knew is get money, flippin' stash and I flood the safe
Take a jet to Cuba to find me a plug and put in place
They told me it wasn't safe, P90, same color race
If that bitch next to my waist, I cosmetic construct your face
Have you looking like a coupe with the top blown
Super Bowl like Janet with the top gone
Try to go against the Truth, get your shot blown
F*ck nigga just fly and get yo block gone
Been hot, like the kitchen with the pots on
Two door Maybach with the knock on
So many stoves over the watch, you think the clock gone
I been the shit, haters tryna get their block on

Aye ho, errday a nigga wake up I get dough
When I get that, next day get more
Go and ask if a nigga on, if ye ain't sure
If anything I be like yea ho, yeah ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho

Off 1800, tequila though
Coconut chokin' up off the weed I blow
Straight lit like a match top
High servin' all day like a trap spot
Six shots, yeah, the gas hot
Yeah, yo badge hot
Young Mac, got 'er opened like a laptop
No deal, but I like that apple
2pac with the juice, OJ no Snapple
Bitch, you won that raffle, you done got with a winner
Compton nigga that love pussy fo' dinner
Zig-zag, 2 grams, yeah, cookies is in 'em
Spend racks on the denim, got racks in the denim
Yeah, I'm rackin' on hangers, rovin' in Rangers
Bustin' em danger, plus I stay with 'em bangers
Diamond in lane, you know the gang, fool
Haters hot at the ice, still I remain cool

Aye ho, errday a nigga wake up I get dough
When I get that, next day get more
Go and ask if a nigga on, if ye ain't sure
If anything I be like yea ho, yeah ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho

Boss, all gas and the fast life
Saggin' in my Trues, pay my dudes, I'mma spazz out
Smokin' on some shit outta 'Frisco, I just copped it
Bust a cigarillo, then lick it, seal it and lock it
I'm all across the table like a corner pocket
I was raised on the corner with a holster rocket
You talkin' bout shows, I'm supposed to rock it
Muthaf*ck going to court and they f*ck ass dockett
Catch me runnin' through a red light, roof all open
Ridin' candy slab with the coupe all pokin'
Arm on my hammer, I can't even much lie to ya
Niggas 'll pull up and serve yo ass your talapia
Nigga, where the weed at? I'm headed to the drank house
Catch up with a couple of homies and have a drank out
Diggin' in my pocket for my dice, pullin' my bank out
Since hoes eat dick, I'm mobbin' with my Frank out

Aye ho, errday a nigga wake up I get dough
When I get that, next day get more
Go and ask if a nigga on, if ye ain't sure
If anything I be like yea ho, yeah ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Aye ho, errday a nigga wake up I get dough
When I get that, next day get more
Go and ask if a nigga on, if ye ain't sure
If anything I be like yea ho, yeah ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho

Look I hustle, I'm talkin' like the gang that T.I. rep for
On that gangsta shit, like I was Pac when he was Deathrow
King off in these streets, I got it locked cause I won't let go
When they come to Houston, it's understood it's the West ho
All I knew is get money, flippin' stash and I flood the safe
Take a jet to Cuba to find me a plug and put in place
They told me it wasn't safe, P90, same color race
If that bitch next to my waist, I cosmetic construct your face
Have you looking like a coupe with the top blown
Super Bowl like Janet with the top gone
Try to go against the Truth, get your shot blown
F*ck nigga just fly and get yo block gone
Been hot, like the kitchen with the pots on
Two door Maybach with the knock on
So many stoves over the watch, you think the clock gone
I been the shit, haters tryna get their block on

Aye ho, errday a nigga wake up I get dough
When I get that, next day get more
Go and ask if a nigga on, if ye ain't sure
If anything I be like yea ho, yeah ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho

Off 1800, tequila though
Coconut chokin' up off the weed I blow
Straight lit like a match top
High servin' all day like a trap spot
Six shots, yeah, the gas hot
Yeah, yo badge hot
Young Mac, got 'er opened like a laptop
No deal, but I like that apple
2pac with the juice, OJ no Snapple
Bitch, you won that raffle, you done got with a winner
Compton nigga that love pussy fo' dinner
Zig-zag, 2 grams, yeah, cookies is in 'em
Spend racks on the denim, got racks in the denim
Yeah, I'm rackin' on hangers, rovin' in Rangers
Bustin' em danger, plus I stay with 'em bangers
Diamond in lane, you know the gang, fool
Haters hot at the ice, still I remain cool

Aye ho, errday a nigga wake up I get dough
When I get that, next day get more
Go and ask if a nigga on, if ye ain't sure
If anything I be like yea ho, yeah ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho

Boss, all gas and the fast life
Saggin' in my Trues, pay my dudes, I'mma spazz out
Smokin' on some shit outta 'Frisco, I just copped it
Bust a cigarillo, then lick it, seal it and lock it
I'm all across the table like a corner pocket
I was raised on the corner with a holster rocket
You talkin' bout shows, I'm supposed to rock it
Muthaf*ck going to court and they f*ck ass dockett
Catch me runnin' through a red light, roof all open
Ridin' candy slab with the coupe all pokin'
Arm on my hammer, I can't even much lie to ya
Niggas 'll pull up and serve yo ass your talapia
Nigga, where the weed at? I'm headed to the drank house
Catch up with a couple of homies and have a drank out
Diggin' in my pocket for my dice, pullin' my bank out
Since hoes eat dick, I'm mobbin' with my Frank out

Aye ho, errday a nigga wake up I get dough
When I get that, next day get more
Go and ask if a nigga on, if ye ain't sure
If anything I be like yea ho, yeah ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho
They gon' be like yea ho, yea ho
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Frazier Othel Thompson, Jason Martin, League Of Starz, Lil Boss
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




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