Quilly – Been Wavy Lyrics (feat. Spade O)

[Verse 1: Quilly]
Drop back to back, no chill button
Murder these rappers, I’ma kill somethin’
I was on house arrest; still buzzin’
You can put a ring on her, and, she still f**kin’
How niggas’ strapped down and they’re still runnin’?
f**ked money up, got back, still stuntin’
You in line waiting on the new J’s, J’s on my line
I ain’t sleep in 2 days
Got your lil’ bitch on me, I’m your boo fav
Go head and tell your grandma, I’m the new wave
I could put you on your feet, put you on game
You be wit a 100 niggas and, they’re all lame
If your money fold, that’s small change
Niggas’ livin’ wit they’re mom, buying Balmain
Check these niggas’, I got too
Don’t shoot me, shoot the niggas’ that shot you
Keep the FN just to calm my nerves
A-Town voice, better calm your bird
Said she wanna chill but, I kindly curve
Sippin’ on the lean, so i slightly swerved
Kick in your door wit Balenciagas or my Margielas
You thought they was Pradas
I get hot and hotter, my coka proper, add some Baking Soda
Stretch like Alibaba
Gained a lil weight but, a nigga still flexin’
Fake watch buster, come and check my VVS’s
Rollie on deck, On Dek on my necklace
Here to catch wreck if you niggas’ act reckless
On your mark, get set, ya’ll ain’t ready yet?
This is what happen when you put a nigga on a Jet
From the jects, flow outta space like the Jetson’s
Spaceship, wit the top back; George Jefferson
Nigga rattin’, hangin’ in your hood, and, your lettin’ em
Not me, I’m checkin’ em, swish cheese, checkin’ em
100 on your head, you’re a lil’ nigga
You ain’t got more heart than my lil’ niggas’
Hitter masked up, he my Mascot
That’s a new car sittin’ in the glass pot
f**k a ladder, all I need is 1 shot, when your in the Spital
All the fun stop
Breakin’ up the work like Chop Shop
My old head got rich off of one block
Get a few million, that’s lord willin’
Make her catch the bus so she don’t catch feelins’
Work in the floor, guns in the ceilin’
Cops run in here, whole house gettin’ sentenced
O-Dog; I’ma Menace, niggas’ always start shit that they can’t finish
I done seen work, shed no tears
You a scared nigga, shootin’ outta fear

[Verse 2: Spade-O]
You want beef? We can have it here
Doors on the McLaren, whip look like it got Rabbit ears
You see, we don’t do the chatter here, it don’t really matter here
Your blood could get splattered here
My youngin’ had a face full of tatted tears
Now, we got years, cuz a couple niggas’ ratted here
They goin’ up faster and faster
Sent to the moon like they work for NASA
Clowns in the town, they know homie not playin’
They might come around but, homie not stayin’
Uh, apply the full court pressure, fresh outta court
The Glock 40 on the dresser
I take heat to all the hot spots
Cookin’ in the kitchen, half the Chicken in the Croc pot
A quarter Mill in a lock box, she might ride the dick
But, she’ll never wheel the drop top
Bitch, I don’t have half a holla, you see my kicks
Cost a half a dollar
These ain’t MJ’s or ballin’ sneaks, they LV or Balmain sneaks
See, we all can eat, a couple points for my side dishes
Your main joints, they my side bitches
You wanna eat, you can ride wit us
You wanna beef, then, collide wit us
Uh, On Dek is who I’m ridin’ for
They new wave got em jumpin’ off the diving board