Текст песни Lil Yachty — Split/Whole Time

Sippin’ the peach soda
The niggas inside, they gon’ hide ’til the heat is over (Frrp)
Sippin’ the peach soda
The niggas inside, they gon’ hide ’til the heat is over (Frrp)
Sippin’ the peach soda
The niggas inside, they gon’ hide ’til the heat is over
I’ma rap ’til the beat is over
Two Chanel bags, the same price as my mink sofa
And I move like the king cobra
Slimin’ them out, dawg, I didn’t have to think it over
(Earl on the beat)
Frrp

Sippin’ the peach soda
The niggas inside, they gon’ hide ’til the heat is over (Uh)
I’ma rap ’til the beat is over (Uh)
Two Chanel bags, the same price as my mink sofa (Go)
And I move like the king cobra (Go)
Slimin’ them out, dawg, I didn’t have to think it over (Slatt)
This lil’ bitch, I’ma bend her over
After I’m done, call the gang, I’ma send her over (Gang)
I’m in tune with the UPS (Yeah)
Waitin’ on packages, KPreme gon’ do the rest
Got some bitches in Budapest
Strapped with them Ks, they walk ’round wearin’ bullet vests (Ooh, frrp)
I need you to do more, but speak less
Youngins gon’ open, uh
Youngins gon’ open ’em up like some Mucinex (Go)
Give me top, baby, keep the sex (Go)
My dick get bigger when I see a money check
Used to didn’t have a hundred bands (Beep)
Now I’m outside with the gang doin’ the money dance
I’m in rush hour, roadrunnin’ (Mm)
I’m in rush hour, roadrunnin’ like Jackie Chan
My big brother was beatin’ pans (Beat it)
Lil’ brother psyched out, he might go shoot your mans (Buh, buh, beep)
Sunday through Sunday (Sunday)
I got them bitches comin’ on the runway (On the runway)
Fuck with the feng shui (Fuck with)
Break up his back like the wood like a sensei
Fuck did that nigga say? (Fuck)
You wasn’t ’round at the gym back at Lindley (Beep)
Split

Yeah
Uh-huh (Too much slime, Earl, hold it on)
Yeah (Hold that shit down, nigga)
Uh-huh (I’mma see it, you gon’ see it and now he see it)
Really had a doubt
Uh-huh (Feel me)
Uh-huh (For real), uh-huh, uh-huh
Beep, look (Go)

I’m hated that much, I don’t give a damn (Go)
I used to swipe for nun’ through the Skype through the night
I would eat on a Grand Slam (Swipe)
Don’t be like me, I’m a meanie
Still ridin’ dirty ’round town like a millionaire (Don’t be like me)
These niggas softer than Build-A-Bear
Penthouse, then make her eat with no silverware (Shit, ayy, fuck)
I’m crackin’ this bitch like some software (Go)
I got her boyfriend on my crosshair
He talkin’ down (Phew), go the sound
I’m in New York, need a loft here (Damn)
Bitch, I’m a motherfuckin’ boss here (Damn)
No, ain’t no nigga soft here (Fuck ’em)
My niggas down, they came from the town (Phew)
They let it off here (Slatt)
Audemars Piguet, ice me (Ice)
Where I be fuckin’ this Pisces?
She wanna beat up the wifey (She was down)
I like the Piguets, I like the emeralds
Damn, them shits look like a icy (Ice)
If I’m school, check out the IQ
I made more guap than the IT (Yeah)

Shit, nah, whole time niggas hold shit down (Frrt, frrt, hold it down)
Yeah, whole time niggas never lack, niggas keep a hundred rounds (Whole time, frrt)
Yeah, home alone, nigga, run up on me, do ’em like Macaulay Caulkin (Shit, shit, shit, yeah)
Two-fifty for the Bentley coupe, I ain’t drive it, leave it parkin’ (Fif’)

A lot of my choices, dumb shit
Can’t pull up on the block on that dumb shit
My niggas got red on their head
Red on their head on some Trump shit (Brrt)
I’m swervin’ the ‘Burbon down Highland (Skrt)
Swervin’ the whip on some drunk shit (Swerve)
I’m not a fighter at all
But I stomp his head, wanted him dead (Prrt, prrt, prrt)
Won’t get offended, my conscience (Poh)
These bitches hand ’round for the content (Bitch)
It took me way outta context (Oh)
And youngin’ gon’ blow like a Semtex (Shit, beep)
Live everywhere like some Germex (Hee)
Just tell my nigga, «His turn next» (God)
Burn that shit down
Play with me, bitch, I’ma burn it (Burn)
Yeah (Burn), y’all gotta earn it (Brrt)
Don’t speak on no shit you don’t know about
Before you speak on it go learn that
Shit, shit, yeah (Shit)
For real, keepin’ this shit for real (Beep)
Three on them, two I should kill (Yeah)
I don’t even know how to feel (Beep)

Nah, whole time niggas hold shit down (Frrt, frrt, hold it down)
Yeah, whole time niggas never lie, niggas keep a hundreds rounds (Whole time, frrt)
Yeah, home alone, nigga, run up on me, do ’em like Macaulay Caulkin (Shit, shit, shit, yeah)
Two-fifty for the Bentley coupe, I ain’t drive it, leave it parkin’ (Fif’)

Frrt, frrt (Go)
Frrt, frrt
Frrt, frrt