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Yung God

Russ


Yung god when I ride up
Not too many that can fuck with me
Never hung up on the bullshit
I can't afford that type of luxury
How'd I get so faded
How'd I get so faded
I'm boutta' do a show in paris
I swear I'm feelin' like I made it

Makin' deposits off of bein' a prophet
Turnin' visions into riches
Way too big for my pockets
Baby girl I'm a star
I suggest you acknowledge it
While you were scalin' out your pride
I was weighing my options
Like ain't no room in my pictures
For bitches I end up croppin'
I've been movin' and flippin'
And livin' life like I'm poppin'
I'm the young yacht owner
Bitch and I'm not sober
Yeah, they had me on probation
But I'll be done in october

C'mon

You don't have to love me love me
But you gon' have to fuck with me
You don't have to love me love me
But you gon' have to fuck with me

Yung god when I ride up
Not too many that can fuck with me
Never hung up on the bullshit
I can't afford that type of luxury
How'd I get so faded
How'd I get so faded
I'm boutta' do a show in paris
I swear I'm feelin' like I made it

Society tryna' reduce me to simplicity
But little do they know
That I'm designed by the divinity
Not wrapped up in your rules
I'm intertwined with the infinity
Baby close your eyes
You'll realize that you're feelin' me
Sip g-I-n
Flip these problems
Flip these hoes into 16's ahh shit
How'd I get so faded
How'd I get so faded

You don't have to love me love me
But you gon' have to fuck with me

Compositor: Russell James Vitale (Russell Vitale)
ECAD: Obra #17560711

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