Y-U Lyrics

I'll damn you

Somebody's gonna have to tell the truth

I'll damn you

Why you wrist bust down why you sound like that

You tryna get dick down why you round like that

But you never come around come around like that

Now you get fucked up you tryna frown right back

Ohh ohh

Conversation on the phone

You tryna pull up on the low

And nuh body naafi know

Ouu ouu ahh

Im gettin paper shawty

Now you all up on me

This is my house

Now welcome to the party

I could never cheetah

Got gucci and ma feet up

This zaza not no reefer

She from the middle east

I'm lovin on Khalifah

I tried I couldn't leave her

I'm on the internet net

Don't do cybersex

See a red light red flag i don't care imma go

Already told you ion think i just move gotta go

Wish I knew you would be rich lil bitch you shoulda known

Came a long way still cooking noodles on the stove

I put a camera on that pussy watch that pussy race

I put my hands upon her clitoris that's pussy grace

I play some keys upon her bean and now it pay and spray

She shaking moving on her eyes are rolling fade away

She feeling empty fill the void up with a bigger space

I put some children on her head she got that baby face

Oh my God

Why you wrist bust down why you sound like that

You tryna get dick down why you round like that

But you never come around come around like that

Now you get fucked up you tryna frown right back

Ohh ohh

Conversation on the phone

You tryna pull up on the low

And nuh body naafi know

Ouu ouu ahh