Vince Staples - Yeah Right Lyrics

Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah)

Is your house big? Is your car nice?
Is your girl fine? F*ck her all night
Is you well paid? Is your shows packed?
If your soul played, would they know that?
How the thug life? How the love life?
How the work load? Is your buzz right?
Is the trap out? Is the club right?
Got your head right? Boy, yeah right

Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah)

Pretty women wanna slit the wrist
Pretty women wanna be a rich man's bitch
Pretty women wanna couple kids
Pretty women wanna new ass, new lips
Pretty women wanna push a Benz
Come correct and she won't let you in
Dumbing through the you get checks again
Diamonds on your neck is dumb pretend

Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah)

Got it under me that you change with direction
Your face in
Got it under me that tells me you are blocking with deficiency
Your placing
You're pretend to get a better idea about the lifestyle
Your tracing
Keep pretending that you're real until I free something that's erased

Pop 'til it's faking
Pop 'til the wrist pop
Pop 'til he shaking
Pop like four on the floor been in rotation
No allegation
Popular demand, I understand my name is only for conversation
New York nigga be like "dead ass"
L.A. nigga be like "on the dead homies"
I was out the Porsch like Fed-Ex
Two-Eleven got bread on me
K-Dot twilight like the side passed
Roll like fried rice and power shrimp
Temporary pimp, nah, don't remember them
Just canary yellow him jumping out the f*cking gym
Swang like new Dame and Wayne
Paint like two David Wayne's with tie early
Fade like shadows, a stallion, cattle
A bitches decision for you, it's narrow
Collision, the money, and fame, the pharaoh
The physicist, the chemist, the lame
Collateral for Kendrick whenever exchange
Compatible for riches with more to gain
A sad nigga? Yeah right
I don't fair fight but I bear fight
Looking for my next roll kill for the headlight
Even though my last four Q's for the highlights
My life, highlight, house wife, bye, bye

Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right)
Boy yeah right, yeah right, yeah right
(Boy yeah)