Wale - Hold Yuh Lyrics
[Wale]
Ok I’m Wale but you can call me nada
My momma old G which makes me a Don Dada
my momma say im akata (nigerian word for american),
cuz my head look like shata (nigerian word for dread head)
The feds like to follow cause my bread like to knot up
So roll up the Marley, my eyes all low up in this party
I’m looking for an ethi-somoli here beside me
Beside that,Louie where my eyes at
Prada where my feets at
you aint gon find that
Ask me where my mind at
you could never find out
Ridin’ out, 9-5 haters in my hindsight.
More About Nothing
muthaf-cker better download
They’ont stock sneakers, see my deals on the downlow
Keep em in the closet MJ Noami
I don’t need no friends, let the ganja console me
My broad is a trophy
Broads out Moco broads out Southeast
Killer stay uptown, Louden VA tree
Never give my heart to hoes that want my play sh-t
Chrome they are sewn, roam like it aint nothing
Yea that was nothin, but look what I made from it
Carmelo straight stuntin
purple label 8 hundred
I bet I get the fall Rose had this summer
Real n-gga sh-t
ATL was sippin them
Magic city sippin them
Gucci bucket cover my dreads, I think I ’m Gilligan
I don’t really mess with the feds, I’m a militant
If they not talking no bread than we aint listening
Straight Lane Kiffen them
We aint playing for rings and that trophy I mention before, I let em keep
Reggie Bush Im murking my Kardashian (car dash in)
Might as well crash and pass it to Miles Austin
Thats how I’m going, hoes want but now I’m on
A couple poems a couple songs and now its on
And these woman is loving the way that I perform
I like a down-lookin, all for it, flower bomb
Shout out my n-gga miles
They stop the whole game everytime I come around
And me and them rappers we don’t share no common ground
I’ma a sphere they are squares
They can’t even come around
I aint finished yet, I aint finished yet
Bitches love me out Houston like spinach dip
Get it?
I got that cold flow, Winnepeg, this is work
I am in a different World, Winnefred
Jalisa all black Caprices,
Bumpin So Far Gone, goin on polices
And me and my broads n Jamal and Latika
So everytime I treat em, the mall gotta re-up
And ya’ll gotta relax talking bout that he wack
Or they be reminscing over you? Word to P-Rock
Ridin’ in a CL, hope I never see jail
And even if I do I know my momma gon be well
Emmelola (mother’s name) love her more than she know it
The youngest outta two, see Oboluwale’s (real name) grown up
When they hate, I never give a whole f-ck, or half sh-t
Purple haze, purple Half- Cents
I had dollars for a young’un ever had cents.
I have sins so my pants never had lent (lint)
Now I’m getting it everything lavish.
I’m ballin LeBron, lil poncho is Maverick(s)
Ravishing, Rick Rude of rappin you bastards
And I just want to hold her
she all that I can handle
[Gyptian Chorus]
[Wale]
Ok I’m Wale but you can call me nada
My momma old G which makes me a Don Dada
my momma say im akata (nigerian word for american),
cuz my head look like shata (nigerian word for dread head)
The feds like to follow cause my bread like to knot up
So roll up the Marley, my eyes all low up in this party
I’m looking for an ethi-somoli here beside me
Beside that,Louie where my eyes at
Prada where my feets at
you aint gon find that
Ask me where my mind at
you could never find out
Ridin’ out, 9-5 haters in my hindsight.
More About Nothing
muthaf-cker better download
They’ont stock sneakers, see my deals on the downlow
Keep em in the closet MJ Noami
I don’t need no friends, let the ganja console me
My broad is a trophy
Broads out Moco broads out Southeast
Killer stay uptown, Louden VA tree
Never give my heart to hoes that want my play sh-t
Chrome they are sewn, roam like it aint nothing
Yea that was nothin, but look what I made from it
Carmelo straight stuntin
purple label 8 hundred
I bet I get the fall Rose had this summer
Real n-gga sh-t
ATL was sippin them
Magic city sippin them
Gucci bucket cover my dreads, I think I ’m Gilligan
I don’t really mess with the feds, I’m a militant
If they not talking no bread than we aint listening
Straight Lane Kiffen them
We aint playing for rings and that trophy I mention before, I let em keep
Reggie Bush Im murking my Kardashian (car dash in)
Might as well crash and pass it to Miles Austin
Thats how I’m going, hoes want but now I’m on
A couple poems a couple songs and now its on
And these woman is loving the way that I perform
I like a down-lookin, all for it, flower bomb
Shout out my n-gga miles
They stop the whole game everytime I come around
And me and them rappers we don’t share no common ground
I’ma a sphere they are squares
They can’t even come around
I aint finished yet, I aint finished yet
Bitches love me out Houston like spinach dip
Get it?
I got that cold flow, Winnepeg, this is work
I am in a different World, Winnefred
Jalisa all black Caprices,
Bumpin So Far Gone, goin on polices
And me and my broads n Jamal and Latika
So everytime I treat em, the mall gotta re-up
And ya’ll gotta relax talking bout that he wack
Or they be reminscing over you? Word to P-Rock
Ridin’ in a CL, hope I never see jail
And even if I do I know my momma gon be well
Emmelola (mother’s name) love her more than she know it
The youngest outta two, see Oboluwale’s (real name) grown up
When they hate, I never give a whole f-ck, or half sh-t
Purple haze, purple Half- Cents
I had dollars for a young’un ever had cents.
I have sins so my pants never had lent (lint)
Now I’m getting it everything lavish.
I’m ballin LeBron, lil poncho is Maverick(s)
Ravishing, Rick Rude of rappin you bastards
And I just want to hold her
she all that I can handle
[Gyptian Chorus]
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