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Lil Yachty – Fight Night Round 3 Lyrics

Fight Night Round 3 Lyrics – Lil Yachty

If I was down to my last dollar, give a fuck what they think?
We gon’ load a 80 Benz and old Impala
Told this bitch my boys from Detroit she askin ’bout Sada
My wife probably up in New York makin’ enchiladas

Bitch want me to put her in school, I am not your poppa
Thirty clip and it feel full, I’m in my mood
Ready to road rage in a Rolls, ay
Ready to road rage in a Rolls to go hit your hoe

Bitch, leave me alone when I’m at home, and I’m sipping my fo’
Niggas better not run up on me wrong, that shit in my coat
And it clear they lookin at Boat, just like he the Pope

You know I done-done it all, I ain’t Shawty Lo
Rap nigga play with the bag, keep it on the low
Cool nigga run with the steppers, steppin’ on the dope
I just-I just touched down, Yachty scooped me Double R

I think I gotta everything man, Saint Laurant
Nigga say they see on the jet and on the block
Give a bad bitch four minutes like a vibe
Lil’ cause said he want some money, send him out

Spot banging like it’s fast food, In-N-Out
If my youngins catch a nigga outside, they’ll spin the block
How the fuck is niggas actin like they street? They in the house

Heard that nigga want the clout, fuck it, put them in a cloud
Heard the brokest niggas loud, that’s why I don’t make a sound
That nigga said he don’t like Veeze, he don’t know why
I read about shit you ain’t seen or you ain’t know about

I sleep on Chrome Heart pillows at Lil’ Boat’s house
I’m doing scammin’, sendin’ bows to yo’ hoe house
Ridin’ with a hundred twenty shots, boy, that’s four Glocks

Me and face had shows, and low’s and they sold out
We just turned a San Fran mansion to a grow house
I just spent three thousand on a coat ’cause it’s cold now

I can’t ride around in that Bentley, ’cause it’s old now
I can’t hang around with that nigga, ’cause he told now
You was just a gangsta online, why you foldin’ now?
I thought body was your OG, why they hoein’ him out?

Pull up in ATL with them things, make the snow in the south
Trappin’ by the door in my room, it’s one more on the couch
Seventeen wavy, not a yacht in the water
Rolex shoppin’, seen the yacht and I bought it

Me and Meech treat the gallery like a office
Lately I been Globetrottin’ like I’m playing in Harlem
Ridin’ round like we ain’t famous, with a Glock in the Rari
All my niggas bangin’ red, like they got hired at Target

‘Bout to change my name to Ken, all my bitches be Barbies
She keep throwing me the pussy, but I really don’t want it
If her throat could have a baby, I might end up on Maury
Walk around with 20 thousand for the times I was strarvin’

If she pop a X pill, then that pussy, I’m carvin’
I done fucked a thousand girls who BD’s think I’m garbage
Well it’s a pandemic, a world recession, I’m never starvin’
Nigga play with my money leave him lumpy like Martin

Let’s be honest, I’m the real reason all you bitches want a Birkin
How the hell his nails painted and his niggas might murk you?
Made a million dollars cash and the bank I ain’t go to
Seen what you said online, I just really don’t know you

Why would I shine some light on these niggas on purpose?
My bitch bring her friend it’s gon’ turn to a circus
I just got mad at Veeze, he don’t check his purchases, ahhhh, I’m in purses
This bitch mad I ain’t text back, she worthless