Hey You chords by The Comrads

SimplifiedEm · E · A · B · Bm …

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Intro 1
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G 
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Hey

Verse 1
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you,
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the flyest female in the club, boo
You bound to make one of these
rich niggas love you
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French chips with your coach
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bag on  your shoulder
Air roller got your waistline kosher like
Toyota
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Oh what a feeling,
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attract the acts of athletes to niggas that's killing
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Willing to spend
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Velveeta to meet her, lead her to the
Marriott suites
And after we go and eat
we off breeding
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Cristal in our hot tub
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You got love baby, and I got crazy dubs
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For a good time,
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one good line and we off to get sauced
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You show me yours, I'll show you mine I heard
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that gangstas do it better than them
suckas in them
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Orgel sweaters
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It's only right for you to lay up with the
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ex -con
That's keep ass -weighing teflons
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Makes me  wanna holla,
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throw up  off my hands, yeah
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Makes me wanna holla,
Bm 
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throw up off my hands, yeah
G 
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Makes me  wanna holla,
Bm 
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throw up off my hands, yeah
Makes me wanna holla,
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throw up  on my hands, yeah
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You got a man,
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so the usual excuse'll work
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Flat tired till you hit the helpin'
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hand at church
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What he don't know, it won't hurt
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Don't cheat yourself,
loosen up a little bit
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Baby, treat yourself to  a
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man of my caliber
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Don't nobust a calico,
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hit it fast or slow
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Nobody have to know that you came
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about your linen to a man in denim
In converse with the bomb work,
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you really wanna roll
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But you thinkin' bout who
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keepin' you in
Kenneth
Cole's
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Triplex condos, so you hesitate
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Procrastinatin' on makin' a move
On
Harley -Davidsons and
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Sea -Doos
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The shit that we do, be confidential
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I wanna get you wet, but yeah
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Catch more feelings than a wench's
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And if you want what's better
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Check the niggas throwin'
up the 23rd letter
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Makes me wanna holler, go up  off my hands,
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yeah
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Honey, cocoa butter brown,
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you look mighty fine in your skin -tight black
Calvin
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Klein
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Ridin' boots,
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I like the way you wear em'
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Somebody in em', baby,
I sure would like to share em'
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And try to pull you,
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but make you my personal
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Drape you in fly -ass clothes,
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mink stones with a pink rose
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On the edge, a saint in insanity
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You got to be a nasty girl, like
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Vanity
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We ain't new to havin' hoes like that
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Indo chihuahuas and out door rock ballas
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Im pala switches, twin redbones
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Bitches, fuckin' bitches,
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a player's turn on
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Fifty jugs when I get my burn on
I play the
Barker and
Gounder, you can't learn,
don't fool, I get my earn on
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Year round, year down,
and I'm drinkin'
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Moet and beer towns
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Makes me wanna holla,
Bm 
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throw up off my hands, yeah
Em 
Makes me wanna holla,
Bm 
Em 
throw up off my hands, yeah
G 
A 
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Makes me wanna holla,
Bm 
Em 
throw up off my hands, yeah
Makes me wanna holla,
Bm 
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throw up off my hands, yeah
G 
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Makes me wanna holler,
throw up off my hands
Bm 
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Yeah, makes me wanna holler,
Em 
throw up off my hands
A 
Em 
Yeah, makes me wanna holler,
Bm 
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throw up  off my hands
Bm 
Em 
A 
Yeah, makes me wanna holler,
Bm 
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throw up off my hands
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Yeah
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Da da da, da da da da da
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