Yellow Tape - Fat Joe, Lil Wayne, A$AP Rocky

Attention please, attention please

This feel like the whole entire world collapsed

Uhh, this that yellow tape shit — they keep running out of it

We just sold like 8 bricks — we ain’t running out of it

This our fucking hood bitch — run yo' ass up out of it

This gun come with eight clips — shoot 'til I run out of it

Work, work, work, I got it

Work, work, work, I got it

Work, work, work, I got it

I got it, I got it

Work, I got it… I got it, WHOOOO…

This that yellow tape shit, me I’m 'bout to go ape shit

Got eight chicks on eight molly’s and they about to take eight trips

Dice game, eight trips, got a Houston Rocket from J Prince

She get it poppin, I’m a send her shopping and that ain’t even my main bitch

Home invasions, live action, smoker Joe, I’m hijacking

Wrote the dope had my dough, I’ll be there, Five Jacksons

Sin City, K.O.D., hundred thousand all in one’s

Versace jacket, Versace shoes, Versace shades, I got a thousand suns

Mama you the shit I’ll pay your car note

Why you fucking with him?

Even his car broke

We rocking Balmain’s down to the cargo’s

Your bitch so thirsty, Murcielago

Uhh, this that yellow tape shit — they keep running out of it

We just sold like 8 bricks — we ain’t running out of it

This our fucking hood bitch — run yo' ass up out of it

This gun come with eight clips — shoot 'til I run out of it

Work, work, work, I got it

Work, work, work, I got it

Work, work, work, I got it

I got it, I got it

Yeah, WHOOP!

WHOOP!

WHOOP!

Call me Joey I’m a Bada$$, Harlem world like Baghdad

Come through with a black flag and Supreme Vans, the Half Cabs

Bitches on that Pad-ad, fuck her with her fat ass

I get-gets my dick licked, my friends hit (That's swag swag)

What the fuck you mean, I be sitting clean sipping lean

Alexander Wang, that’s the fucking jeans, triple beam

When I serve the fiends, hit you with the beam chopper scream

Leave a nigga dead fucking with the team, magazine

Choo-Choo that train go, drink slow, my chain gold

Soo-Woo or you true blue, don’t get your block yellow taped off

Eight bricks get it shaved off, yeen ho yeen' know

Range Rove or the bank

Roll, I shoot-shoot then change clothes

Uhh, this that yellow tape shit — they keep running out of it

We just sold like 8 bricks — we ain’t running out of it

This our fucking hood bitch — run yo' ass up out of it

This gun come with eight clips — shoot 'til I run out of it

Work, work, work, I got it

Work, work, work, I got it

Work, work, work, I got it

I got it, I got it

Han!

Han!

Han!

Work

Work

Work

Work

Work

Work

Work

Work

Work

I got it

I got it

I got it

You know we loaded with them choppers by the hundred boy

When you talk about that work, you niggas unemployed

White work, I got it (got it), brown work, I got it (got it)

2 Chainz, show your Tity ho, damn right I got it

Just copped about eight bricks, just copped about eight whips (haah)

Copped work from Saint Nick (haah), your whole stash like eight nicks (AAAH!)

Smoke that loud and keep it quiet, let that money talk

Get that brown bag and I skate off like I’m Tony Hawk

Benz drop my top back, your bitch look, I slide that

To the South Bronx and I pop that;

she call you for that ride back (Haan)

South Bronx we got it (got it), Joe Crack we got it (got it)

Black card no limit ho, damn right we 'bout it

Coke Boy, Joe Crack

Uhh, this that yellow tape shit — they keep running out of it

We just sold like 8 bricks — we ain’t running out of it

This our fucking hood bitch — run yo' ass up out of it

This gun come with eight clips — shoot 'til I run out of it

Work, work, work, I got it

Work, work, work, I got it

Work, work, work, I got it

I got it, I got it