Lyrics Yeen Got It - Riven

Yeen Got It

Yeen e’en-
Yeen e’en got it
Yeen e’en got it
Yeen e’en got it
Yeen e’en got it
Counting up profit
I’m flexing when I’m in Austin
When I’m in Houston, I’m balling like Harden
These niggas know I’m getting money too often
Yeah, my diamonds wet, them shits be glistening
And they shit talking, but I don’t be listening, no
Oh, they keep popping, I’ma just keep dribbling
She popped them racks, I support her adrenaline
Shit ain’t sweet, lil' nigga, this ain’t cinnamon
Get the fuck away from me, bitch, got some distance and- yeah
Niggas be clones, they be cloning
In my own world, I be zoning
I’ma flex hard, Hulk Hogan
You niggas fake, stop posing
She say «Fuck it,» pop the whole Xan'
I’m the type of nigga, bring the hoes in
They like «Riven, how the fuck you get this bread?,» I’m like «I don’t know,
I just get this dough in!»
I’ma get this racecar going
I’ma get this racecar going
I keep a big bankroll on me and nigga, I put that shit on me
I get this money with ease
And it’s 'bout money, nigga, who soft?, I’m ready
So I keep my head lil' steady
I ran a lick to see confetti
Choppa 'gon chop a nigga up like a machete
Choppa 'gon chop a nigga, I feel like I’m Freddy
Getting to the green 'cause I care about my veggies
Stop fake flexing, that shit unhealthy
Motherfucker, I get the shit until I’m wealthy
Who on my level, man, there is not many
Yeen e’en got it
Yeen e’en got it
Yeen e’en got it
Yeen e’en got it
Yeen e’en got it
Yeen e’en got it
Yeen e’en got it
Yeen e’en got it