TLE Cinco
Ask the Promoters
[Intro: Big Yavo]
Gang
No, we ain't tucking no chain no where (Yeah)
(Ayy, let that shit ride, Tav)
On gang (Lil' boy)
Say (Hell is you doing?)

[Chorus: Big Yavo]
I tell the plug shit gotta be musty (Musty), I don't even much want it, it ain't got no odor (No)
Tryna serve who at the door, man, this shit dead, artists don't get touched, better ask the promoter (The fuck is you thinking?)
Bitch, I'm from the hood, n***as snatch out your motor (N***as snatch out your—)
Lil' n***a ridin' with switch just like chauffeur (Fah, fah)
Lowkey be scared, they'll tell you to go first (They'll tell you to—)
Baby, close your legs 'cause I want the throat first (I want that top)

[Verse 1: Big Yavo]
Get off this pack, one call, need some more work
N***a told you he trappin', but rеally a dope clerk
N***a told you he trappin', but hе ain't sold no dope (No dope)
You thinkin' 'bout taking me, that's a no go (No, sir)
Loose stick bullets, they bounce just like pogo (Bah, bah)
When you walk in the trap, better make sure the door closed
I came from nothin', now I'm richer than my teacher (Nothin')
Dre just walked in with a dirty two liter
They play with fire, I pull up with that heater
I ain't gotta rap, I got 'bows of that ether (Ether)
Every day, I go get more money, Monifah
Pull up and serve old school out the Regal
I told Bubba, "Roll up with exoto"
Brand new Glock take dick like a thot ho
Ayy, I asked the bitch if she fucking or not
Wrist off-road, got so many rocks
Got so much in the clock
[Verse 2: TLE Cinco]
Ayy, ayy, I'm having fame, but I lowered that blick
Get in court with the judge and act like I ain't see shit
Lot of these n***as too broke, can't beef with
Switch on the glick, this bitch sound like a remix
Ayy, I'm in the kitchen, I'm cookin' a deep dish
She tryna fuck, Mike Jack', ho, beat it
Ayy, bitch leaving
Play with that gang, is you tweaking?
Designer drip, having sauce and season
Empty the drum with a switch on that Glock, ayy, get popped
She ain't tryna fuck, then she kicking some rocks
Real hood baby, n***a, long live Joc
She finessin' the kid, bitch, stop
Ayy, ayy, this rap shit, it's gettin' Eazy-E
We the n***as who they wanna be
I got these young n***as spinning for free on me
Young n***as shooting from three, deep
Up in the field, where the fuck is my cleats?
I pour a four in a soda, I'm geeked, codeine
Ayy, long live Bankroll, I keep it street
Stalkin' this opp like a motherfuckin' creep
I got some ice on my teeth and it's ice in my cup
Ayy, firework, n***a play and I'm lightin' it up
I was a loose screw, I had to tighten it up
Cuffin' that ho, but she dyin' to fuck, ayy
[Chorus: Big Yavo]
I tell the plug shit gotta be musty (Musty), I don't even much want it, it ain't got no odor (No)
Tryna serve who at the door, man, this shit dead, artists don't get touched, better ask the promoter (The fuck is you thinking?)
Bitch, I'm from the hood, n***as snatch out your motor (N***as snatch out your—)
Lil' n***a ridin' with switch just like chauffeur (Fah, fah)
Lowkey be scared, they'll tell you to go first (They'll tell you to—)
Baby, close your legs 'cause I want the throat first (I want that top)