
Why You Mad Fetty Wap (Ft. Shy Glizzy)
На этой странице вы найдете полный текст песни "Why You Mad" от Fetty Wap (Ft. Shy Glizzy). Lyrxo предлагает вам самый полный и точный текст этой композиции без лишних отвлекающих факторов. Узнайте все куплеты и припев, чтобы лучше понять любимую песню и насладиться ею в полной мере. Идеально для фанатов и всех, кто ценит качественную музыку.

[Intro: Fetty Wap]
(Zaytoven)
Ayy
Ayyy
Yeah Baby!
Ziggy on the beat, bruh
Zoovier! 17
1738
[Chorus: Fetty Wap]
Really, tell me why you mad, son
(Why you mad, why you mad)
Is it 'cause a nigga balling, 'cause a nigga getting rich?
You don't want to make me mad, son (Nah, nah)
'Cause if I pull out this Tommy, I'ma let it finna rip (Brrat, brrat)
For them bands, I get you tagged, son
Niggas come to your apartment, make your baby mother strip
So you best come with that cash, son
I ain't trying to hear no excuses, I ain't trying to hear shit
Really, tell me why you mad, son
(Why you mad, why you mad)
Is it 'cause a nigga balling, 'cause a nigga getting rich?
You don't want to make me mad, son (Yeah, baby)
'Cause if I pull out this Tommy, I'ma let it finna rip (Baby)
For them bands, I get you tagged, son (Ay, ay)
Niggas come to your apartment, make your baby mother strip
So you best come with that cash, son (Yeah, baby)
I ain't trying to hear no excuses, I ain't trying to hear shit
(Zaytoven)
Ayy
Ayyy
Yeah Baby!
Ziggy on the beat, bruh
Zoovier! 17
1738
[Chorus: Fetty Wap]
Really, tell me why you mad, son
(Why you mad, why you mad)
Is it 'cause a nigga balling, 'cause a nigga getting rich?
You don't want to make me mad, son (Nah, nah)
'Cause if I pull out this Tommy, I'ma let it finna rip (Brrat, brrat)
For them bands, I get you tagged, son
Niggas come to your apartment, make your baby mother strip
So you best come with that cash, son
I ain't trying to hear no excuses, I ain't trying to hear shit
Really, tell me why you mad, son
(Why you mad, why you mad)
Is it 'cause a nigga balling, 'cause a nigga getting rich?
You don't want to make me mad, son (Yeah, baby)
'Cause if I pull out this Tommy, I'ma let it finna rip (Baby)
For them bands, I get you tagged, son (Ay, ay)
Niggas come to your apartment, make your baby mother strip
So you best come with that cash, son (Yeah, baby)
I ain't trying to hear no excuses, I ain't trying to hear shit
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