Hella lyrics

by

Ne-Yo


[Intro: Wale]
They gotta feel like butter baby
Yea, hella flow, hella bread, hella haters f*ck em
Yea, hella flow, hella bread, hella haters f*ck em
Uh lets get it work

[Verse 1: Wale]
Hella flow, hella bread, hella haters f*ck it
LA women in my stable none of them are donkey
Bulimic maybe decent, said "baby you need Jesus"
Said "Ain't you Muslim Wale?" I said that ain't ya business
Go and mind it, bumpin Gold Alpinas
Rap while mix poetry quadrupled a n*gga vagina
In take, take down, squad stay down
All my b*tches in here that's 2-5, say "ooww"
Supercharged off that San Diego medical
And about a move contemplate on this revenue
And heaven knows what this money sh*t can do to you
But I ain't tryna orange suit for hoardin pharmaceutical
Elude the fame in the same breath pursue the loot
When you do your thing ya bang b*tches then toodle-oo
Zanotti boots, Giuseppe's woo
She throw a fit she threw it at me I just threw the deuces

[Chorus 1: Wale]
Hella flow, hella bread, hella haters f*ck em
Yea, Hella flow, hella bread, hella haters f*ck em
Uh lets get it, work
Hella flow, hella bread, hella haters f*ck em
Yea, Hella flow, hella bread, hella haters f*ck em
Uh lets get it, work
[Verse 2: Dom Kennedy]
And I been cutting hoes off cuz I can't trust em
She switched sides on me other n*ggas f*ckin
But I'mma bounce back like it ain't nothing
And you n*ggas could never see me
Talk sh*t but he wanna be me I don't drink Vodka-tinis
I f*ck with that straight 'Gnac from here to the state cap
Wit b*tches that lick sacks and n*ggas that shoot craps (yep)
So I don't give a f*ck about a rap check (uh-huh)
Just cars and assets, rolexes with baguettes
Your b*tches got bad breath, my b*tches get mad pressed
Like "why you can't call me?" "damn, we just had sex" (uh)
Hella shows, hella girls, hella beats, crush em
At least hook a n*gga up a English muffin
I wonder would she like me if I did construction
It's rules to the game you gotta read instructions
We can't split alimony
Just half of this macaroni have sex then we back to homies that's it

[Chorus 2: Wale & Dom KENNEDY]
Hella flow, hella bread, hella haters f*ck em
And I been cutting hoes off cuz I can't trust em

[Verse 3: YG]
Haters f*ck em, all my haters f*ck em
Reason I ain't got no girlfriend cuz these b*tches I can't trust em (Noo)
Police duck em, middle finger f*ck em
I went from robbing to rich, I'm a scattish motherf*cker
You's a mark, but that's a topic I don't wanna touch on
You the type that don't bust back when you get bust on
Get your b*tch before I let her have it
If you don't wanna go to jail boy pay them taxes
Wale reached out (What Up) he a real n*gga
I thought he ain't f*ck wit a n*gga like Tommy Hilfiger, salute
Them b*tches from the club be boufed
The only reason we f*ck wit em cuz we know they get loose
You got n*ggas ghost writin your hits
I got b*tches from the Bay ghost ridin my di*k
I'm so west coast, I used to be strapped on the metro
I remember asking n*ggas who had snaps on the petro
But now I got
[Chorus 2: Wale & Dom KENNEDY]
Hella flow, hella bread, hella haters f*ck em
And I been cutting hoes off cuz I can't trust em
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