[Lyric] Boujee (YRS Montana)

[Lyrics "Boujee" by YRS Montana]


[Verse 1]

Boy be slipping
Neck is freezing
Im so icy
That’s cold season
That’s a wifey
On her knees and
Giving head for sum sneakers
Lot of hoes, I don’t need ‘em
Lot of checks, Imma get ‘em
She not freaky, Imma leave her
Lot of opps, don’t believe ‘em
Putting Ice on a Jesus
I got crown like I’m Jesus
No, I’m Evil
Yea, I’m devil
Call me demon
Got no reason
Baby mama want a threeasome
Loaded 18, bullets in ‘em
Imma pull up, when I see ‘em
Drinking lean in a BM
Call me the Don
I’m a boss
Her pussy wet
I got saucе
Call me Don
I call shots
Came from cooking in a pots

[Hook x2]

Damn, I’m so boujee
Like rich еnough
Lambo or rarri
Switch it up
Ridding with shawty
Fuck her up
Call her lil mommy
Eat it up

My pistol is packing
Round drum
Aiming for head
Headshot
Keep up with shit
Lose life
Talk shit
You lose tongue
[Verse 2]

Bitches be snitches
Talking to po po
One phone call
I swear, they go go
Trapping in BM
They saying I’m loco
God knows I’ll make it
I ain’t no local
Running for bread
Money went so low
Mask and Glock
Knocking on yo door
Got niggas that’ll pop you
Walking with off lock
My niggas that’ll rob you
Walking with off lock

Ain't no question
Ain't no answer
Put that mask
And get to blasting
Take his rollie
Take his master
Fuck his bitch
And make her pay it
Make her wet
And make her say it
Make her roll it
While I’m spraying
We in Lambo
Riding late night
Getting blazed up
With no headlights
Call me the Don
I’m a boss
Her pussy wet
I got sauce
Call me Don
I call shots
Came from cooking in a pots

[Hook x2]

Damn, I’m so boujee
Like rich enough
Lambo or rarri
Switch it up
Ridding with shawty
Fuck her up
Call her lil mommy
Eat it up

My pistol is packing
Round drum
Aiming for head
Headshot
Keep up with shit
Lose life
Talk shit
You lose tongue