Yeen Got It - Riven

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