Babywav marks his return with twelve high-powered tracks, showing the world what grit and substance sounds like in a post-modern underground era.

Green Heart Sessions (Extended)

Unitus x Vadova - Targeted

prod. Drewtek + Scoat + Guta

(Lyrics)

On my goals 
I cant fold 
I cant fold 
I cant go 
We ain’t going 
Post up on that
And I ride til the morning
Hey, Post up on that

On that road
Post up on that
Spent some miles on that road
And you should know that 
We put fye to opponents
And all my hoes said 
You keep lying boy you bogus 
Damn, all my hoes fed
Get that guap and they notice
Yeah, slide on mopeds
I put slime on opponents
No Nickelodeon
Don’t @ Nite cus we gon go there 
And blow on potent
You think you so important 
And if I do, that’s okay

Slide through the 4 like the 6
I put the 4 in the 6 
You put the muse in music 
You putting views in the mix and whole time, I give no shit 
I ain’t been home in a grip
I just been rolling up zips in somebody’s crib
No, not with the bullshit 
Finna switch my damn jurisdiction 
For a minute right there I went missing 
Ever since that shit, I been distant
And no, I ain’t really different
If you think that you is, then you isnt
On that road
Till a young nigga gone in the distance 
And the niggas that you giving listens
They ain’t never been in your position 

On that road
Post up on that
Spent some miles on that road
And you should know that 
We put fye to opponents
And all my hoes said 
You keep lying boy you bogus 
Damn, all my hoes fed
Yeah, Slide through the 4 like the 6
I put the 4 in the 6 
You put the muse in music 
You putting views in the mix and whole time, I give no shit 
I ain’t been home in a grip
I just been rolling up zips in somebody’s crib
No, not with the bullshit 
Finna switch my damn jurisdiction

Vadova - Bogus

Vadova - 2017

Prod Rainforest 3M Kelewya

(Lyrics)
Got a classy hoe like Blair Waldorf
Tryna find my hoe like Where’s Waldo
In the trap spot, posted with the sawed-off
We were broke-ass niggas having no zot
Only rapper in the city with my own zot 
Wav city livin’ put me in a droptop
And your bitch want me put her in some archive
I’m a starchild, I cannot die
In the mufuckin’ car, it’s a Glock nine
I don’t treat the red light like a stop sign
And the pack up in the air like a botfly
Tryna hit this cool hoe by the bonfire
And the fresh smell of dope, my alarm clock
She want molly, molly, molly, and the jaw lock
Get off I-85, I’m in the R now
Hold up, 
JFK, Nixon, damn
Tryna come presi’ for the wrist, damn
Popstar Benny with the mix, hold on
First rule, get it how you living, hold on
I can take everything I’m dishing
I can take a nigga shit, fuel my addiction (I can take)
Big ass bowl getting shipped, mailman don’t know what he delivering 
Got a classy hoe like Blair Waldorf
Tryna push my agenda ‘til I’m worth more 
You ain’t finna feel a bump, but the car low
I’ma tax it high as fuck, but I buy low
And today, I bought a coat with your car note 
Niggas switched and I’m tryna see carnage
With the automatic tucked in the cargo
And I can’t believe she fucked, hoe the bar low 

Damn
(Hold on, fuck em up)
No you can’t get none my bands, hoe
Christian Dior on my brands, bro
This shit for us why you mad, hoe
Check out my mufuckin’ stats, you see a young nigga getting them stacks bro 
I put this shit on my back, gratitude all that a young nigga ask for
Damn
You see how that goes 

Got a classy hoe like Blair Waldorf
Tryna find my hoe like Where’s Waldo
In the trap spot, posted with the sawed-off
We were broke-ass niggas having no zot
Only rapper in the city with my own zot 
Wav city livin’ put me in a droptop
And your bitch want me put her in some archive

Vadova - Wavcitycure (Bonus)

Prod. Drewtek & Rainforest

Video: https://youtu.be/3jwGMEvwmwU?si=9FXJHWDewgH5wBd9

(Lyrics)

And this shit is not what it seem
And the shit its not what it seem
I done upped my price, raised the fee 
Finna upgrade, do a damn arena
Yeah my boy, he got what you needin
With twin & we blow on sativa
Sweet wood, putting gas in the leaf
Halo, I’m a master, I chief
Heart sleeve since 017
Need me, ion know if I need ya 
I ain’t putting up my hand to defeat
Ima walk out with some bands at least 
I’m just doing what I can for the team
And my bruddaman lean, lean, lean
I can’t worry bout the fans or the fiends
And its Kris Van Assche on the jeans

We having flavors
You know we drip in the latest
Yes im so cool, I’m her favorite
We made a yo from the vacant
Don’t say goodbye, just say later
Bro brought the fye through Decatur
These niggas never seen paper, these niggas never seen house came with acres 
Damn

Know what I’m saying 
Bitch my so swag got your hoe on demand
Run through that bitch, put a hole in the sand 

And this shit is not what it seem 
I done upped my price, raise the fee
Fuck a Scat Pack, riding in a Beamer
Finna upgrade, do a damn arena
Young nigga need my chicken and my cheese
Fuck nigga, real good how we eating
That nigga tryna join, can’t beat us
Packs in, came from Philly like the Eagles
Four deep on that road like The Beatles
No weed, call my brother he the trap addict
No sleep bout the numbers man I’m mathematic
So geeked, roll another and I’m fantastic

Know what I’m saying 
Bitch my so swag got your hoe on demand
Run through that bitch, put a hole in the sand 
Count all that cash with my dominant hand
We get them racks so don’t worry again
This shit gon last so don’t worry again 
We finna make this shit perfect again 
This shit gon last so don’t worry again 

Yeah, know what I’m saying? 

Perfect again, on god I leave a hole in the sand
Fat blunt yea that hoe smoke in the wind 
This is our way out, more than the synths 
Yeah
Know what I’m saying? 

And this shit is not what it seem
And the shit its not what it seem
I done upped my price, raised the fee 
Finna upgrade, do a damn arena
Yeah my boy, he got what you needin
With twin & we blow on sativa
Sweet wood, putting gas in the leaf
Halo, I’m a master, I chief

Vadova - Seem (Vid In Desc)

Unknown Producer
@omertagoon

(Lyrics)

Bitch I'm the big dog
I’m getting pissed off
Nigga walk in the function he think he the shit just ‘cus he got some Ricks on 
Yeah, if Luh Kae come through, he take that shit off
On gang, no R Kelly, these niggas got shit on
I’m tryna slide
One dese fuck niggas tryn die, So I went put hot sauce in a rental
She tryna ride
She tryna come to da 5 so I went put dat bitch in a headlock
2 man
I don’t even think she gone mind, I been fuckin ha friend, I told twin hell nah, he can't get her
Bae
It's some things i can't tell ya
Real rich slime, baby, I’m a pretender
We could get fly and then go out da way cus my African play brought them bricks back to Kenya
She was like, do you do drugs
do you do, do you do, do you do drugs, I say hell yeah
I’m in the booth wit the cup
Slime gotta ship that pack off, hope he dont mix the mail up

I can clutch with these niggas, wassup
Just like I’m Mike Phelps, young nigga stay with that metal
Damn, its not what but its who you know
Know I’m gone get that roll if you knew me tho
Damn
In the mufuckin booth right now, hold up, I got a jelly roll
Cross a pretty ho right off my schedule
Superstudio, came from that microphone
Sellin iPhones, I got me like 20 more 
Fuck the opposite, I’m tryna top the score (Wcl)
You can Zelle me that bag just to rock the show
They wasn’t hearing me, ain’t tryna talk no more 
This swag
Young nigga rock this swag
Dropping steez, lil bitch get back
Fuck niggas stay getting did bad
And the gotdamn jeans Kris Van, Assche
All on my jeans who mad
Ashin on my brand new swag, 
Ashin on my brand new swag, like hold up
Damn 
Superbad hoe tryna see if I do drugs, told that ho hell yeah
I wouldn’t speak on the 8 or the Wav, you can just ask the last nigga
Yeah
Niggas should stop posting that lil bankroll if you ask me (Shit aint shit)
You know Im smoking on premium za I won’t ask you to match me
I just been doing these drugs for a while so I know when you taxing

Vadova x Omertagoon - Do U Do Dr*gz

Produced by Drewtek and Jwade

(Lyrics) 

I ain’t even gonna beg for this shit
I ain’t even gone ask a nigga 
You know I had to get me some more tho

Fashion race
Who gon rock that first, man, this that fashion race
Trash that tape, boy that life you live, you can’t een rap that mane
Yes Im faithful 
I just want my cake, I’m not gon touch her bae
Expensive taste
Diamonds like that Voss, can’t drink no Celsius baby 
Diamonds like that faucet, like that seltzer baby
All we drop is purple we don’t fuck with that green apple baby
Hold up 
Ask me bout flying back and forth up on that Delta, baby
You can ask me bout it

Out of town penthouse like that shelter baby
Out of town, smoking loud, in your house, I’m elevated
You can ask about that Skyhouse, spent hours on that elevator
Breaking pounds, only one around, can you help me bae
Wipe me down, CDG Homme plus the swag, its never play
Don’t think that I’ll ever play
Wav team, we got hella rank
These niggas think they archive stepping, my shit still in cellophane
I touch cheese like everyday, and he touch cheese on special days 
Word to gang 
Yeah

Still got scars from all the harm they did
Bitch I waited my whole life so they wouldn’t get it
Crushed up shrooms in lemon juice, it’s so acidic
Opp nigga smoke so good, put out my gotdamn spliff
Big ‘Vette, this some shit your lil ass couldn’t even whip
Diors fit so good, that’s why I love this leather
When I drip on you, I’m comfortable, that’s why I love this weather
If it’s up to me, that suffering gone, I put that on my deadz 
Real bands nigga, put that on your head 
Real wagyu, I put that on my tab 
I might not een speak if you not bad 
Shut yo trap boy, yeen talking cash 

That shit way too bland, boy, you can’t be speaking swag…

Fashion Race
Who gon rock that first, man, this that fashion race
Trash that tape, boy that life you live, you can’t een rap that, mane
Hold on 
Yes Im faithful 
I just want my cake, I’m not gon touch her bae
Hold on 
Expensive taste
Diamonds like that Voss, can’t drink no Celsius baby
Diamonds like that faucet, like that seltzer baby
All we drop is purple, we don’t fuck with that green apple baby
Ask me bout flying back and forth up on that Delta, baby
You can ask me bout it

Vadova - FashionRace

Produced by Pilothigh1 & 2k1shawty 

These packages came through the mail 
These bags getting harder to scale
These bad bitches giving me hell
These magazines came in a pair
I’m going to war with the man in the mirror 
I hope they don’t think that I’m scared
Ain’t bragging on shit but my hoe made em’ stare
I’m puffing this smoke in the air
I fumbled a hoe, she was rare 
Having the most damn steez in my area
You know my jacket from ‘012
All of these stripes tucked under my belt
We never looked at these niggas for help
Niggas in love with my spot, I’m aware 
You can get hit with that beam and you melt 

I got a, couple of pairz
I got a whole lot of shit I could wear 
Niggas not fair, why you playing it fair
Took a step back when these niggas was weird
I been prepared since the barbershop chair
Her pussy wet, got me gasping for air 
I’m going up hoe, you there or you square 
Hoe tryna link everyday and it’s weird
I got these S.R Studio Vans 
They from LA but my shirt from Japan 
I’m having swag talks with all my friends 
That shit a language like Spanish or French 
I left a lot of folks in the past tense 
Can’t get no guap with these niggas, they dense 
Tried help you up, you was stuck on the fence
Bitch I’ll be damned, you put me on that bench

Hold on,
‘Cedes-Benz came with the legroom, remember we came from the bedroom
Nigga, don’t act like I know you, nigga ain’t seen you since high school, damn 
2k1shawty and Pilot, this flightschool, walk in that room, it’s a fly room, damn
Post in your town, do a fly-through
Talked to your hoes and I know they don’t like you 

I got a, couple of pairz
I got a whole lot of shit I could wear 
Niggas not fair, why you playing it fair
Took a step back when these niggas was weird
I been prepared since the barbershop chair
Her pussy wet, got me gasping for air 
I’m going up hoe, you there or you square 
Hoe tryna link everyday and it’s weird
Hold on,
Hold on

These packages came through the mail 
These bags getting harder to scale
These bad bitches giving me hell
These magazines came in a pair
I’m going to war with the man in the mirror 
You better not think that I’m scared
Ain’t bragging on shit but my hoe made em’ stare
I’m puffing this smoke in the air
I fumbled a hoe, she was rare 
Having the most damn steez in my area
You know my jacket from ‘012
All of these stripes tucked under my belt
We never looked at these niggas for help
Niggas in love with my spot, I’m aware 
You can get hit with that beam and you melt

Vadova - Couple Pairz

Prod Rainforest x Kyosei

Music Video: https://youtu.be/2bqy2ySSY58

(Lyrics)

Really fucking them bands up, damn
Really fucking my plans up
Bad, hoe tryna fuck my damn plans up
That, hoe tryna fuck on my mans like yeah
Ksubi jeans hang off my ass like damn
Got that B-roll in my pants like, yeah

Copping that drip off Therealreal
Nigga done shopping at Concord Mills
All my plug bottles be still sealed 
I know your plug having refills
Damn, 424 jacket came straight from LA with them details
You know that I could just get her for retail, then I just put her on resale

Hold on

I take a puff of that za, I see stars when I inhale
These bitches trying too hard for a young nigga heart, better know thats a big fail 
I’m in New York with the cig smell
Open the bag and you know that that shit smell
And even if this shit derail, I know that I just went hard for this shit, yeah
Damn 
Ysl on my shades, I got swag on my face
Why you settle for less, when it’s way more to gain 
I start repping my set, now these boys do the same 
I got negative test in my piss for that lame shit 
I got positive memories of hitting stains, bitch 
I just made the cocoon, they ain’t want see me change bitch 
Fill my bank up with blues, I don’t want no damn chain bitch 
Leave my hoe right on read, think I been on some strange shit 

Really fucking them bands up, damn 
And you seen my damn pain firsthand 
You switch up like the rest and it’s sad 
I was calling for help with no end, but now I come up and they just calling back 
Hit my phone but I changed my jack 
And I’m forever straight, real rap 

Ysl on my shades, I got swag on my face
Why you settle for less, when it’s way more to gain 
I start repping my set, now these boys do the same 
I got negative test in my piss for that lame shit 
I got positive memories of hitting stains, bitch 
I just made the cocoon, they ain’t want see me change bitch 
Fill my bank up with blues, I don’t want no damn chain bitch 
Leave my hoe right on read, think I been on some strange shit 

Really fucking them bands up, damn
Really fucking my plans up
Bad, hoe tryna fuck my damn plans up
That, hoe tryna fuck on my mans like yeah
Ksubi jeans hang off my ass like damn
Got that B-roll in my pants like, yeah

Copping that drip off Therealreal
Nigga done shopping at Concord Mills
All my plug bottles be still sealed 
I know your plug having refills
Damn, 424 jacket came straight from LA with them details
You know that I could just get her for retail, then I just put her on resale

I take a puff of that za, I see stars when I inhale (CL, WavCL)

Vadova - Realreal (Vid In Desc)

Produced by Project

(Lyrics)

Told that girl just how I feel 
Told that girl just how I felt
I wish I could, I can’t help it
Hoe like the pack, I’m tryn smell
Big ass Dutch, take a puff and you shell
Eat that bitch up and you melt
Swag on the shelf and the belt, don’t need help
Shots going off and it smell like you weldin’ 

Having these scales like the fuckin’ cartel
Walk in that bank with the stealth 
Totaled the cat, drove it straight outta hell
Broke the eleventh, was up on the twelfth 
Hold on
That boy a peasant, he told on himself
Designer here, designer there, man this shit right on the shelf
Boy I’m workin’ that check, this ain’t theft

Told that girl just how I feel
Told that girl just how I felt
I wish I could, I can’t help it
Hoe like the pack, I’m tryn smell
Big ass Dutch, take a puff and you shell
Eat that bitch up and you melt
Swag on the shelf and the belt, don’t need help
Shots going off and it smell like you weldin’ 
Boy, you not poppin’ that Glock, but you held it
Broke the eleventh, was up on the twelfth 
Walk in and walk out that bank with the stealth
He can’t even come to swag school, he expelled
Hold on,
Cut up on 485 like a chef
Homicide here, homicide there, man this the city of death
Boy I’m workin’ that check, this ain’t theft

This beat so groovy like Topside’s 
Middle fingers to the other side
If I sign, then I hope that my brother sign
If I die, then I’m hoping my brother live
You can have this shit, I’m on some other shit 
Used to be sad that I wasn’t like them other kids
They ain’t peep I was great but my mother did
Oh they want see me broke? Fuck ‘em then 
Caught a play like that bitch was a pigskin 
Still an African goat like I’m Wizkid 
Man, I think that these niggas been drinking
Cuff a thot, nigga, what was you thinking?
Swag on the shelf, and the belt it got sequins
Before I get to that grave, hope they knowing my name
Sign to the Wav, you can get you a chain, know a few good flips put you back in the game, like 

Swag on the shelf and the belt, don’t need help
Shots going off and it smell like you weldin’ 
Walk in and walk out that bank with the stealth
Broke the eleventh, was up on the twelfth 
Hold on, he can’t even come to swag school, he expelled
Designer here, designer there, man this shit right on the shelf
All this shit came through the mail 

I wish I could, I can’t help it
Hoe like the pack, I’m tryn smell
Hold on
Told that girl just how I feel
Told that girl just how I felt
Big ass Dutch, take a puff and you shell
Eat that bitch up and you melt
Swag on the shelf and the belt, don’t need help
Shots going off and it smell like you weldin’ 

Boy, you not poppin’ that Glock, but you held it
Broke the eleventh, was up on the twelfth 
Walk in and walk out that bank with the stealth
He can’t even come to swag school, he expelled
Hold on,
Cut up on 485 like a chef
Homicide here, homicide there, man this the city of death
Boy I’m workin’ that check, this ain’t theft

Vadova - Twelfth

Vadova - Problemz (demo)

Produced by Malachi

[Lyrics]

(Malachi, you killed this one)

Get that cash, don’t care who you are
When you on your last, would your niggas let you borrow 
Driving fast, bitch I’m cutting up in any car 
Duckin Fanz, he duck opps to make it to tomorrow 
Stand a chance with these bitches off the story heart
No advance, bitch I can’t buy you no Audemars
What’s in my pants, my lil nerf came with like thirty darts
Fuck joining frats, hang with trappers who be serving hard

Damn 
I think I geek, way more than the fucking bar
I’m savoring every moment with your broad
Damn 
This bitch arguing, with me like she passed the bar
Fuck a following, your favorite rapper think I’m hard
Damn, scoop her, took her to the southside cus she think she posh 
Damn, she gon use me as a rebound and I’m like Chris Bosh now
Damn, met a new hoe in a new lo and I like her vibe now
Better tell me if it’s smoke because I’m having za now

Yeah
What 
Yea yeah
What
Yeah
What 
Ok
Ok

I got banned from their lil’ block but, hoe, I’m coming back 
I got bread for my believers and I promise that
Damn, had some loyal hoes who took that drive to Charlotte, man
Can’t hit that road no more, just meet me up in Charlotte man
Damn 
If I blow before I bag this hoe, I’m fuckin fans
Damn, thats your baddest hoe, but you know she made me ran 
Damn, I got fancy clothes, your BD don’t have these pants
Hoe, I got gatty soles, leaving prints up in the sand
Don’t get physical with me I’m a little man
I got fifty whole niggas that’s gone make you scram
First I hit the road, then the balcony with Talibans
Just like Benjicold, my plug having them percs out the ass
I need plenty more, I keep making a way with these raps
Facing that flavorful gas
Face it, I’m taking that cash
I got plenty goals, can’t relax, so I’m chasing them fast 
Facing way more than the facts
Stand in my way and it’s wraps

Get that cash, don’t care who you are
When you on your last, would your niggas let you borrow 
Driving fast, bitch I’m cutting up in any car 
Duckin Fanz, he duck opps to make it to tomorrow 
Stand a chance with these bitches off the story heart
No advance, bitch I can’t buy you no Audemars
What’s in my pants, my lil nerf came with like thirty darts
Fuck joining frats, hang with trappers who be serving hard

(This is a Wav exclusive, ha)

Vadova - Duckin Fanz

Produced by Eliasxhdz

[Lyrics]
Need them bands to keep going 
I’m tryna pull off with my mans in a foreign 
Whole lotta drugs, you can pop the shit or pour it 
Bad ass broad cooking breakfast in the morning 
Damn, Ion think they ever see me blowing 
Damn, ion think they ever see me glo-ing
Ain’t no time to call ‘cus my schedule getting long
Told the hoe I’m gone, she ain’t never see the wrong 
You ain’t really strong, you could never be the boss
Hope your money long, cus it cost to be the boss
Help a nigga ‘long, he gon switch up when he on
Help a nigga all damn year he a cross you
My hoe wet like the voss, I’m addicted like the drop
Whiff her like the za, then I lick you like the raw
You been flexing all damn year, I been watching 
Ima get your drop cus my niggas like to rob

Walk up out the mansion and I hop up in a boat
Call me old fashioned, but I’m still rocking ‘Po
Low, ticket, but a higher grade of smoke
Taking niggas advice with a grain of salt 
Wood grain on the dash, this Bentley like a boat
I cannot explain why I want my bitch on Vogue 
Came a long way from the gold Nissan Rogue
Ooh 
Yuh
Hella plans and shit, we just advance and shit
I pop swag in this bitch, I don’t dance and shit
Can’t examine this drip, won’t be accurate
I was famined, lil bitch, I won’t having shit
Go to Saks close that bitch like a cabinet 
And I’m still on the hunt for the baddest bitch 
Type of bitch I might to to Miami with
…
Tryna plan this shit, hoe fuck that random shit 
And my other hoe said I’m too random
But my favorite bitch said I’m spontaneous 
Having fragrance like Saudi Arabians 
Having lettuce like on top that McChicken
Smoking lettuce that came out of Michigan
Damn I’m lost off this shit just like Gilligan
…
Good morning bitch I woke up on the northside 
Northside but I post up on the eastside 
Your side full of hoes, it’s really three sides
Online copping drip, I’m checking jean sizes 
My life moving fast, I gotta rewind 
Motherfuck every opp, it ain’t no peace sign
Ain’t no guap calling, then a nigga decline

Need them bands to keep going 
I’m tryna pull off with my mans in a foreign 
Whole lotta drugs, you can pop the shit or pour it 
Bad ass broad cooking breakfast in the morning 
Damn, Ion think they ever see me blowing 
Damn, ion think they ever see me glo-ing
Ain’t no time to call ‘cus my schedule getting long
Told the hoe I’m gone, she ain’t never see the wrong 
You ain’t really strong, you could never be the boss
Hope your money long, cus it cost to be the boss
Help a nigga ‘long, he gon switch up when he on
Help a nigga all damn year he a cross you
My hoe wet like the voss, I’m addicted like the drop
Whiff her like the za, then I lick you like the raw
You been flexing all damn year, I been watching 
Ima get your drop cus my niggas like to rob

Vadova - Morning

Produced By Qwality, Soundsbynova

(Lyrics)
Stocks elevating, nigga put some bands up
Hotboxing, we on 85 Atlanta
Elevating swag and throw it in a hamper
Innovative and I been that way since Pampers
Escalated on a bitch, I had to ban her 
And I’m genuine, I gotta put the fans first
Matter fact, a nigga gotta put the fam first
Matter fact, a nigga gotta put the bands first
YProject on my body with a man purse
Za project, all my niggas bust a damn serve
Why parlay with these niggas, they ain’t paying for it 
No, my name isn’t Metro, want some damn more
My niggas upping matches, fuck a damn torch 
These niggas met their match, we won in damn four 
I ride the beat like water, like a surfboard
In these frames, I seen some shit you never seen before

He got everything he want, but he need more 
He be balling just to ball, he don’t see the score
He drive all the fucking cars that you fiend for
He’ll pop a fucking broad like it’s kettle corn
Making all these fucking songs with the metaphors
I’m just going hard, for lack of a better word 
Got my metal, but rather live in a better world 
And beretta toters who blast if I said the word
I can do a lot of shit, I can’t save the world 
Gotta watch out for shit, it’s a cold world
And I keep a pretty bih with her toes curled
And the crib finna be big when I’m on, word to bro 
And I’m not just getting lit when my phone turned off
Bitch a nigga really spend, so I gotta keep a buck
And that’s really where these niggas got it fucked up
Nigga, rule number one, youn gotta give a fuck
Like hold on
Hold on
Yeah
Get in one time, ima hit it, ooh
[?] one time when I’m hittin it 
This my lifestyle, young nigga, swagcentric
Young nigga just dial up on the instrumental
Get me on your lineup, rocking out the venue 
Trapping til my time up, I can’t een pretend you
Got these bitches tryna sign up, put em on the menu
Stocks elevating, nigga put some bands up
Guap elevating, nigga we aint playing, nah
I don’t play with niggas, I done put the game up
I can’t lay with any bitch, these hoes be playing dumb
I create a pot to piss, I had my head down
We ain’t saving shit, can’t spend it when we dead now
Can’t relate to half the shit my niggas did now
When that Draco hit your block, just don’t be scared now 

Stocks elevating, nigga put some bands up
Hotboxing, we on 85 Atlanta
Elevating swag and throw it in a hamper
Innovative and I been that way since Pampers
Escalated on a bitch, I had to ban her 
And I’m genuine, I gotta put the fans first
Matter fact, a nigga gotta put the fam first
Matter fact, a nigga gotta put the bands first
YProject on my body with a man purse
Za project, all my niggas bust a damn serve
Why parlay with these niggas, they ain’t paying for it 
No, my name isn’t Metro, want some damn more
My niggas upping matches, fuck a damn torch 
These niggas met their match, we won in damn four 
I ride the beat like water, like a surfboard
In these frames, I seen some shit you never seen before

Vadova - YProject

Produced By Valentin Motte

(Lyrics)

(Yeah, Yeah, Yeah
Yeah, Yeah, I’m still on it 
Yeah, Yeah, but I’m still on it 
(What)
Yeah, Yeah, but I’m still on it)

And I told you I quit the gas, but I’m still on it 
And you told me this shit wouldn’t last, but I’m still on it
And these niggas, they don’t know half, and they don’t know nothing
And my son not finna know the half, cus this shit get ugly 
And your hoe be busting her ass, my hoe don’t do nothing
I could just let your ass have it, yeen had nothing
Niggas ain’t talking bout static, these boys ain’t on nothing
All of this designer fabric and I ain’t spend nothing
You paying these hoes for their snatches and I ain’t spend nothing

You wanna get to my level, then put some bands up 
Hold up, I’m trying get to a whole ‘nother level, so I can’t let up 
Hold up, I’m flying out to New York for the show, I was just on the bus
Hold up, I do this shit for my boys in the dirt, ain’t forgetting you, bruh
Hold up, I slide all through your town in a Cadillac bulletproof truck 
Old niggas calling my phone, tryna tell me it’s luck 
I’m really driving and flying to whole different cities, to make sure I get my name up
My heart been broken and repaired so many times, promise you this shit come with the pain, bruh
I know I smoked with you last week, you feel a whole different high, this a different strain, bruh 
I was just getting bread last week, hitting the same exact site with a different name, bruh
My niggas trapping off plastic, bag full of work in the trunk but it didn’t stink, bruh 
I just delivered The Package, promise I’m still having work, but it did its thing, bruh

Ahh, I’m still on it 
And you told me this shit wouldn’t last, but I’m still on it
And these niggas, they don’t know half, and they don’t know nothing
And my son not finna know the half, cus this shit get ugly 
And your hoe be busting her ass, my hoe don’t do nothing
You never had to bust your ass, so you ain’t did nothing
Whenever I busted my ass, I always got up 
These niggas be proud of my ass, and I ain’t did nothing 
When I can just Prada my bag, you know I did something 
I could just let your ass have it, yeen had nothing
Niggas ain’t talking bout static, these boys ain’t on nothing
All of this designer fabric and I ain’t spend nothing
You paying these hoes for their snatches and I ain’t spend nothing

(You wanna get to my level, then put some bands up 
Hold up, I’m trying get to a whole ‘nother level, so I can’t let up 
Hold up, I’m flying out to New York for the show, I was just on the bus
Hold up, I do this shit for my boys in the dirt, ain’t forgetting you, bruh)

Vadova - Still On It

Produced By Valentin Motte

Link to Video: https://youtu.be/f1mqFAYvd3w

(Lyrics)
[Intro] 
Guap 
Guap 
Guap
Damn I put in pain, like
Damn I put in pain, like
Nigga gon’ know my name, like 
Ball like Lebron James, like 
And I’m hella paid, like
These niggas tryn’ live the wavlyfe 

Damn
These niggas wan’ see me live
Nigga, my shows like Vlive
These niggas hoes, niggas pussy 
These niggas hoes, niggas feline
Damn, these niggas holding their nuts 
These niggas look up to me now 
Taking that flight back from NY 
I can just kick up my feet now

I don’t even rap for the free now
Nigga gotta pay me a fee now
Show me a hoe that I need now 
Show me a nigga I need now 
Damn, this shit all on me now
Smell of exotic on me now 
Now I got somewhere to be now 
Hoe scream my name when I leave out
Damn, whole lotta drank in my pee now
Why you can’t keep that shit P now
I’m the Wav City Selena 
Nigga tryn’ slime me, I tweak out 
Ride with no doors on that muhfuckin Jeep now
Hoe can’t afford me, these bitches so cheap now 
Shit so annoying, I keep it a G now 
I’m doing more of this shit ‘fore I leave out
Hit every store, man these niggas so green now 
With no remorse, I just kill every beat now 
Gang in New York and we deeper than deep now 
Making that engineer load up the beat now 
Damn I put in pain, like
Damn I put in pain, like
Nigga gon’ know my name, like 
Ball like Lebron James, like 

Guap 
Guap 
Guap 
Guap
And I’m hella paid, like 
These niggas tryn’ live the Wavlyfe
These niggas wan’ see me live 
Nigga, my shows like Vlive 
Taking that flight back from NY 
I can just kick up my feet now
These niggas hoes, niggas pussy 
These niggas hoes, niggas feline
Damn, these niggas holding their nuts 
These niggas look up to me now

Vadova - Vlive (Vid in Desc)

Produced By Masin and Slam

(Lyrics)
Yeah
What (Damn)
You got big fish
You got little fish
And the little fish cannot eat the big fish
But we growing off the shit my niggas building
Keep it hunnid, I been growing, but I’m still lit
Blowing money on that geekup for the feeling
Turn my speakers all the way so I can feel it
Move your body and that’s how I know you feel it 

Draco riding on the seat so I can chill with
Doggin’ bitches, who the fuck I’m finna build with
Some yall niggas, I ain’t never split a meal with 
Fakin’ love, they looking at me like a meal ticket
They saw my greatness before me, that shit make real sense 
I know the best is before me, I’m having patience 
I’m having dinner at Fleming’s just for the ambience
You want the smoke with all my niggas, OK say it den

You still on your ass, your rent been due
Tryna fit my lady in my schedule
I feel bulletproof when I’m riding with you 
How this shit gone end, man you never know 
Size 45, could you fit in these shoes
I-85 and we breaking the rules
Hold up
Playing with my guys just like-
Playing with my guys just like taming some wolves

You got big fish
You got little fish 
And the little fish cannot eat the big fish
Boy, we growing off the shit my niggas building
Yeah, wood grain on the choppa’ when I’m chilling
Set fire to the bank, came out with bills man 
No way I’m fucking with you for the feel man
Damn, these niggas changed so quick, it give me chills man 

Yeah
What 
You got big fish
You got little fish
And the little fish cannot eat the big fish
But we growing off the shit my niggas building
Keep it hunnid, I been growing, but I’m still lit
Blowing money on that geekup for the feeling
Turn my speakers all the way so I can feel it
Move your body and that’s how I know you feel it 
Yeah
And that’s how I know you feel it 
What, damn
And that’s how I know you feel it
What, damn
Yeah, thats how I know you feel it
Huh, damn 
Yeah that’s how I know you feel it

Vadova - Fishes

Produced by Skrtshordi, Yondrr

(Lyrics)
Guap, Guap, Guap
Guap, Guap, Guap (Ha haa)
( … really tried stop this shit)
Guap, Guap, Guap
Guap, Guap, Guap
(These niggas really tried to come…
Come together against this shit)

We swerving
Your favorite fuckin’ coupe
Honey bourbon 
Backwoods, bitch we burn em through the roof
I’m not perfect
I’m just doing what I do
No Suburban, 
Bentley truck, lil bitch, we coming through
At your service 
Trust me, bitch, if I put trust in you
Know it hurts, hella knives in my back but I just keep moving
Came from rehearsing to late nights cooking up in every stu
Stick on my person, I’m not scared, your family scared to lose you

Hold up
None of these niggas can stop me, yeah, like a doctor they knowing my body
Usually, Glock semi-auto but, with the box on the back it’s a Tommy
My whole life fell into place just like dominoes, that’s the reason why I started rhyming
And if this rapping shit was college football, then a nigga would have me a Heisman 
I made a promise to put the whole team on, you can’t go nowhere, you on an island
Make the wrong move and I’m cutting that beam on, make a opp nigga strip like it’s Follies 
Upping my rank off of making these theme songs bout my life and they finna acknowledge 
Nigga I took all that lil CdG off, bitch I rock a Goodfellow from Target

We swerving
Your favorite fuckin’ coupe
Honey bourbon 
Backwoods, bitch we burn em through the roof
I’m not perfect
I’m just doing what I do
No Suburban, 
Bentley truck, lil bitch, we coming through
At your service 
Trust me, bitch, if I put trust in you
Know it hurts, hella knives in my back but I just keep moving
Came from rehearsing to late nights cooking up in every stu
Stick on my person, I’m not scared, your family scared to lose you

Vadova - ThrudaRoof (Solo Version)

Produced By Malachi

(Lyrics)
Yeah
Bring my shit back, bitch
Four finger ring on my hand, bitch, damn 
Draco just too hot to handle (krr)
Let that hoe fly til I jam it, damn
Hoe can’t een dodge when I’m ramming (krr)
Cut that brick with a Karambit, damn
Cook that bitch up in a pot bitch, uh
Cook that hoe up in a pan bitch, yeah
I got a whole lot of fans bitch 
These niggas act like my fam, bitch, uh
Damn, drum on that bitch like a fan bitch (ffrr)
Drip on me from foreign lands bitch,uh 
Too much hate in this world, I can’t stand it 
I been just tryna do what I can, bitch, yeah

You can bet on me, bitch, like the moneyline
You can flake on me just like I’m average, promise you that we not linking another time
I’m the one who made gold out of sand, I told you I got you, then nigga my word is bond
And I’m holding this shit in my hand, I look in the mirror and say that the world is mine
And I’m taking these packs in the air, I open the bag and you know that the odor mine
And I’m taking that Hemi hereNthere, engine gon’ jump out that bitch with no motor mounts
‘Cus it took me a minute to get here, I cannot be by your side when you go down
And I’m spilling that swag hereNthere, but its ok I got way more to go round 

Yeah I got way more to go round 

All on my own
I gotta walk this path til I cant no more
I gave niggas every pass, but I can’t no more, ahh
I got real proof that my swag can put a nigga on 
My plug having flavors like Menchie’s, what you want 
My hoe way, way too friendly, like fuck that, uh
No 1900, I was hanging with Rugrats though 
We would leave at lunch and hit up every damn store 

Uh 
What 
Hold onn
Yeah
Bring my shit back, bitch
Four finger ring on my hand, bitch, damn
Bitch think she too hot to handle, damn
I take a trip to Miami, damn (Hold on)
Serve out that pack, call it candy, damn
Serving some bars, not the xannies, damn
I need that Benz, fuck a Grammy, damn
Show tonight, whole documentary
And that shit turnt, foe, we need us an Emmy
Why would you turn on your team when we winning
I could just turn on that beam and just grill ‘em
Or turn on the heat on the seats when I’m chilling 
I turn up the heat in this shit, they can feel it 
I need all my cheese in this bitch with no Philly (Oh yeah)

Yeah
Bring my shit back, bitch
Four finger ring on my hand, bitch, damn 
Draco just too hot to handle (krr)
Let that hoe fly til I jam it, damn
Hoe can’t een dodge when I’m ramming (krr)
Cut that brick with a Karambit, damn
Cook that bitch up in a pot bitch, uh
Cook that hoe up in a pan bitch, yeah
I got a whole lot of fans bitch 
These niggas act like my fam, bitch, uh
Damn, drum on that bitch like a fan, bitch (ffrr)
Drip on me from foreign lands bitch,uh 
Too much hate in this world, I can’t stand it 
I been just tryna do what I can, bitch, yeah

Vadova - 2 Hot 2 Handle

Recorded at Quad Studios NYC
Produced By Malachi

(Lyrics)

(Letsgo 
Hahaaa
Niggas know where the fuck we at 
Uh, hold on)

(Malachi, nooo)

What
Damn 
What
Turn my shit up
RIP David, my nigga, I do this
Pour that shit up
All of my niggas got designer deuces
We pour that shit up 
NYC, I’m on Houston not Houston
Burning shit up
Hope you don’t think that we making music
You is a scrub
All my niggas in love with abusing 
Designer drugs
Za x grabba, I’m putting a fusion
Into my lungs 
Call J, nigga he having them shrooms in 
He got a bunch

Damn 
In the States but my mom was an immigrant 
She say how you make friends off the internet
That’s the reason my mission is getting that
Niggas dissing, they see that I been that 
You can have all the swag that I been had 
Fit these racks in a roll, think I’m going mad
I got ‘Venchy and Hedi, got all that 
Damn
Think I ain’t having that shit 
I got the status, these niggas want static 
Cus boy, they ain’t having that shit 
Coming in last, I ain’t having that shit 
My hoe can’t relax, she ain’t having that shit
You want the gas and we having that shit
Ten floors up and we matching and shit
(What, damn)

From Charlotte to Raleigh to Cali
New York and I’m stepping in Sali’s
I’m steady maintaining the balance 
Wav shit, and this shit around the atlas
We blazing this shit in a palace 
These niggas ain’t talking about static
We make an opp nigga strip like it’s magic
(Oh yeah)

Turn my shit up
RIP David, my nigga, I do this
Pour that shit up
All of my niggas got designer deuces
We pour that shit up 
NYC, I’m on Houston not Houston
Burning shit up
Hope you don’t think that we making music
You is a scrub
All my niggas in love with abusing 
Designer drugs
Za x grabba, I’m putting a fusion
Into my lungs 
Call J, nigga he having them shrooms in 
He got a bunch

Vadova - Call J (Remaster)

Produced By Icami, Noahmejia, Andrzxz

(Lyrics)

For real, you know my body
For real, you know I got it
From tears, empty pockets
Now it’s bills in my wallet
What’s real and what’s fake, I’m tryn’ reveal all my problems
The seal, better not break it, it’s a real precious bottle 
It seems that my fate is written, ah, what do I know 
I speed right down 85, I glide on top of potholes
The demon on that body wide, it’s speedy just like Marco’s 
We T’d up like Mardi Gras, last summer with my Vatos 

Hold up, bend that coupe
Strike that hoe, we ain’t tripping on no car note
Commendable, what niggas do with my swag, can’t go far though 
Undefendable, 300 ‘Black could lowkey knock your arm off 
It’s so memorable, just skipping class and posting up at Topgolf 
Unremarkable, these niggas tried so hard to be the knockoff
It’s not parkable, that TRX take up two parking spots, yeah
But it’s yelling like a foreign, push that bitch right off the charts, yeah
Red and yellow on that Rari, I ain’t never banked Wells Fargo

But what do I know
I fuck these bands up, like I hit the lotto
I feel like Kev, if it’s foreign, make it wobble
One to the leg, when he walk, that nigga gon wobble
I’m not a fan cus these niggas not moving proper
I’m finna roll this spliff by hand, where’s the grabba
And these niggas keep hating, tell ‘em play if they wanna
Keep playing, we can pull up where you lay with them ‘yoppas

For real, you know my body
For real, you know I got it
From tears, empty pockets
Now it’s bills in my wallet
What’s real and what’s fake, I’m tryn’ reveal all my problems
The seal, better not break it, it’s a real precious bottle 
Concealed carry, bitch I got the real problem solver
Fuck deals, who gone pay enough for both me and my mama
I’ll really slime a hoe, they’ll probably vote me off that island 
Can’t waste no time lil hoe, I’m making phone calls while I’m driving 

The strains on my body
The stains on designer shit just came with the item
I slay these exotic bitches, hoe might got the itis
These strains that I blaze, I might got permanent bronchitis 
The sleep deprivation, it’s just way too hard to fight it
The E63 just like a plane when you inside it
That big 223 just spit like seeds when it’s excited 
This shit not new to me, I damn near was the first one on it 

It seems that my fate is written, ah, what do I know 
I speed right down 85, I glide on top of potholes
The demon on that body wide, it’s speedy just like Marco’s 
We T’d up like Mardi Gras, last summer with my Vatos 
Hold up, bend that coupe
Strike that hoe, we ain’t tripping on no car note
Commendable, what niggas do with my swag, can’t go far though
Undefendable, 300 ‘Black could lowkey knock your arm off 
It’s so memorable, just skipping class and posting up at Topgolf 

For real, you know my body
For real, you know I got it
From tears, empty pockets
Now it’s bills in my wallet
What’s real and what’s fake, I’m tryn’ reveal all my problems
The seal, better not break it, it’s a real precious bottle 

Hold up, bend that coupe
Nigga got slimed because the make and model
Hold up, what’s that coupe
12 don’t know, cus I just went full throttle 
Damn, I could have went Hysteric on that bitch, but I went Prada
Brand new drip in by the pair, rock that shit just like a model

Vadova - Potholez

prod. The Hills Collective

(Lyrics)

Yeah
Hold on, that shit 3 loud
Alright, like hold on
(Hey Zeke, is that you)

Passing that pack like a quarterback 
Plug got that pack on his shoulder bag
Walk through the back with an odor man 
Getting this shit back in order man
Young nigga got racks like an older man
Bitches tryn’ see who got all the bands
How much you need, I got all the grams 
Nigga like me signing autographs 
I was just buying IDs off of Telegram 
Yeah, I was buying that piece, I was tryna scam
Now when my music release, it just get me bands
Boy, on these Wav City Streets, it been getting bad 
Boy, I took your city steez and I mix and match 
Boy, this bitch overly geeked at a nigga swag 
Damn I went rojo my seats when a nigga drag 

I do this shit for my boys on the northside man 
Know it’s a rental car, every damn Porsche I’m in
I do a front flip off every damn porch I’m on 
Jumped off the porch and I start rocking L Vuitton
Start drinking fours and I stopped drinking El Patron
Go to Detroit, hit the Set like I’m Babytron
I got these bitches upset, they can hate me now

I wish that society wasn’t that fake 
Wish my anxiety wasn’t so crazy 
Praying for stuff, I want more to my name 
Still never prayed for no nigga to save me
Trapped in the A and I trapped in VA, got unlimited plays 
Trapping them Chases and trapping them Navys, ok 
I got unlimited plays

Passing that pack like a quarterback 
Plug got that pack on his shoulder bag
Walk through the back with an odor man
Sparking these blunts why my brain so fogged up
So I might seen you once, I don’t know that man
Fucked on my brother and fucked on my cousin
I promise you these hoes not worth a damn
Fuck it, these boxes get broken down
Fucked up your guap, that shit gone now
Spark up a wood in the morning time 
Evening time, that shit still smoking now 
Making this art ‘cus they fucked up my heart 
And I’m still going hard, but it’s broken now 
Hoe water wet, she gone ocean now
Hoe seen me flexing, she focused now

Passing that pack like a quarterback 
Plug got that pack on his shoulder bag
Walk through the back with an odor man 
Getting this shit back in order man
Young nigga got racks like an older man
Bitches tryn’ see who got all the bands
How much you need, I got all the grams 
Nigga like me signing autographs 
I was just buying IDs off of Telegram 
Yeah, I was buying that piece, I was tryna scam
Now when my music release, it just get me bands
Boy, on these Wav City Streets, it been getting bad 
Boy, I took your city steez and I mix and match 
Boy, this bitch overly geeked at a nigga swag 
Damn I went rojo my seats when a nigga drag

Vadova - Autographz

Produced By 2onefour

(Lyrics)

(2onefour)

(What
Ahh sh-
Ahh shit
Like, ahh shit 
These niggas like
What
These niggas like)

These niggas like, aw shit
Yeen never seen something like this
These niggas ain’t saw shit 
Yall trap ain’t jumping like this
We cooking that raw shit 
Yall just ain’t coming like this
These niggas can’t solve shit
These niggas can’t ball, shit 
My hoe was on flaw shit 
I had lost my scholarship
Skipped classes all fall, shit 
Going ham with a college bitch 
Niggas lame, I was watching them
Niggas playing with the guap, get some
We’ll spray everything til your block get numb
We’ll spray everything til your- 

I know this shit gone sell 
You can smell that shit outside the V
And also I’m hoping this shit go well
Came from hospital beds and IVs
A young nigga came up with sickle cell
Now they paying for my unreleased 
I know some opp niggas that’s sick as hell
And you might just pay a rent or lease, but I got some jeans that cost triple that 
If you know the type of swag on me, you know I make bad bitches triple back 
Ima always be the one to leave, I’m not wasting time, I can’t trip on that
In the future I see that AP, diamonds on wrist and my finger man
Hotbox the whip and it linger man

These niggas like, aw shit
Yeen never seen something like this
These niggas ain’t saw shit 
I’ll take your whole roll and shit
Fuck 12, don’t call them niggas
Keep going through phones and shit 
I tell a hoe call that nigga 
Keep calling that lame ass nigga 
Eighth grade, hit a stain, young nigga
We work everyday, young nigga 
Work shit like the blade, young nigga 
We put in pain on niggas 
Fin pop champagne on niggas
My drip Hermes on niggas 
No Y2K on niggas 

(What, CL)

Vadova - Sum Like Dis

Produced by Masinandme

(Lyrics)

You my mans, why you counting what I spend
If I die, I can’t be the nigga on the bench
Walkin round with pants that cost a nigga rent
Niggas made of glass, I see it through the tint
Burning hella gas in the room, where the vent
Bitch so bad, walking through with a scent
Traphouse swag, but I’m stepping in a pent
Am who I am, you can keep your two cents

You know shit get real, right
Got some young niggas that real right
Ooh, pouring purple for the feel-right
Huh, and I gotta keep the steel right
I, thought it was fuck how niggas feel, right
Damn, thought you got active in the field, right
Damn, my niggas active in the hills, right
Damn, my niggas snapping, do a drill right

Conversation with my mama, Ima miss y’all
Out of state, I’m doing business with the big dog
Confrontation and the drama got me pissed off
But I’m honest, you can never say I did wrong
Soda pops and baby bottles, that’s the beer pong
And I’m always trying to run my money real long
Really quick to cut a hoe off if it feel wrong
Really quick to have a blowout if I feel wronged
Hit her five times, 
Just like Dwayne Carter
Lose a cop car
In the same Charger
You gone follow on a nigga, Ima take charge
Been the hottest fore I got on niggas’ radar
Shells dropping on his tint like it’s rain water
Hella diamonds on the wrist, it’s a rain drop 
Hella za nigga, no withdrawals
More deposits nigga, no withdrawals

You my mans, why you counting what I spend
If I die, I can’t be the nigga on the bench
Walkin round with pants that cost a nigga rent
Niggas made of glass, I see it through the tint
Burning hella gas in the room, where the vent
Bitch so bad, walking through with a scent
Traphouse swag, but I’m stepping in a pent
Am who I am, you can keep your two cents

Wcl
Cl

Vadova - 2 Centz

Produced by Gasinmyduffel, Evertime

(Lyrics)
Yeah
Yeah
Tryna get
Yeah, uh, tryna get
Yeah, tryna get
Yeah, tryna get 

Roll so thick, you can’t fold it in half
Two weeks, five states, you do the math
Tuesdays, Thursdays, we can’t even trap
Monday, Friday, I’m in my bag
But
Saturday, Sunday, I ain’t relaxed
Just like a Hyundai, strike me a Scat
Ooh
I’m with that gunplay, shoot with my left
You don’t want gunplay, you can get left

Ooh
I’m on Canal Street
My bitch want some bootleg shit, I can get me some too, but don’t out me, yeah
You niggas so bootleg, what the fuck you would’ve did just without me, yeah
Nigga better not doubt me, yeah
Keep ballin, they fouling, yeah
Young nigga keep styling, yeah
These niggas tryn style me, yeah
And every time a nigga go out the way, these bitches just found me, yeah
Vance High School straight to LA just to rock out the show, it’s astounding, yeah
And these bitches gone peep on the steez, I’m the freshest young nigga in my county, yeah
You a hoe
Come round this way, man, these niggas know that it’s a bounty, yeah
When I was broke
Niggas ain’t see no potential, they might as well clown me, yeah
I don’t even think you want smoke
G19 and them Draco holders, they around me, yeah
I don’t even think yo ass know
392 growl, I like the way that it’s sounding, yeah
I don’t even think yo ass know
Maybach GLS 600 and dat bitch bouncing, yeah
Cant get this shit in the store
Me and my niggas won’t ever be rocking the same shit, woah
And everywhere that I go
Knowing my name in this bitch, so a young nigga sanctioned, woah
No special treatment for hoes
Ion give no fuck, man yo hoe cannot get in this section, woah
If you want, call me sexist, woah

What
Tryna get,
Tryna get loaded, yeah, ooh
Tryna be goated, yeah, ooh, yeah
Young nigga don’t go there, yeah, what, damn
Think I got a show there, what, ooh
Shoot me a floater
Za scent odor
Young nigga got older
Still,
Ain’t cry on no shoulder

Roll so thick, you can’t fold it in half
Two weeks, five states, you do the math
Tuesdays, Thursdays, we can’t even trap
Monday, Friday, I’m in my bag
But
Saturday, Sunday, I ain’t relaxed
Just like a Hyundai, strike me a Scat
Ooh
I’m with that gunplay, shoot with my left
You don’t want gunplay, you can get-

Vadova - Loaded

Produced by Barkonten + Others

(Lyrics)

Yeah 
Ooh
Ooh
Yeah

Ooh, flying through the galaxy
015, Had that Samsung Galaxy 
Ion know why these niggas be mad at me 
Uh, yeah, hold on
Know these niggas ain havin more swag than me 
Ooh, scrolling through my gallery
(Damn hold up what)
Damn, my old hoe don’t even fuck with me 
Bae you know these niggas got nothing on me
Bae you know these niggas can’t stunt on me…
Ooh
Labels hit my phone, email full with contracts 
Smoke on chin chin chong, walk by me, catch a contact 
Young nigga keep going, keep on making that content 
Hop on that jet, I flown 
I’m on a whole nother continent 

Damn
Cracking this foreign ass hoe, remember she used to be abstinent
Hang with a foreign ass hoe, remember that hoe got an accent 
Cheap tickets on the bows, just like you watching the Cavs play 
Uh, probably like ten or more, blunts in the Supreme ashtray
Ooh, yeah 
Just call me Babywav, been that shit since a neonate
I’m counting real pape, nigga I’m counting real pape
I’m with the whole gang, nigga we got a show today 
This shit is no game, nigga I’m in my flow state 
Ooh
I took it as far as I could take it 
I’m spending this shit, it’s not sacred 
Damn, my life like a foreign exchange kid 
I promise that it ain’t no changing
If you want you can stay on that side but just stand on that shit, I ain’t doing no saving 
I know these bitches be fanning; they still cannot stand me, they know they not doing no paying
I, fucked up my fit
I, spilt some damn lean on my Vans 
I, ashed the damn blunt on my pants 
You, spill my damn cup then it’s hands
I feel like Smurk in this bitch, free Lil Durk in this bitch, do this shit just for only the fam 
This shit not worth it, I’m working my blam 
I bought a purse for this bitch and it cost your advance

Ooh, flying through the galaxy
015, Had that Samsung Galaxy 
Yeah, uh
Ion know why these niggas be mad at me 
Uh, yeah, hold on
Know these niggas ain havin more swag than me 
Ooh, scrolling through my gallery
(Damn hold up what)
Damn, my old hoe don’t even fuck with me 
Bae you know these niggas got nothing on me
Bae you know these niggas can’t stunt on me…

Vadova - Contractz

Produced by Cade, Nova, & Dreamz

(Lyrics)

Ooh, 
Trap out the fucking returns department
I ain’t wanna work in insurance department
Walk in this bitch and I turn up the party
And I got stick in the glove compartment 
Still kind of sick off them drugs I started
Think I got sick off your love, that’s karma
Ion wanna talk about blunts, just spark it
I wanna fuck up my lungs, I spark it
Look on her face when I stunt, astonished
Count it up, I need some gloves to wash it
Walk in the party, they ask if I got it
Know that I got what you want, I’m on it
Seeing some swag in the store, I want it
Ion care if they selling both, I bought it

I don’t care
If I’m driving or walking or flying there
Give a fuck what you need, baby I’m there
I ain’t playing bout cheese, hope it’s all there
Put me on any team, bitch I ball there
You can lean on me just like an arm chair
And my steez like sous vide, yeah I like it rare
Ooh, why you said move out the city, I like it here
Why you keep calling that bitch when she like it here
These niggas stuck at the bottom, they like it there
Point to my collar, my jeweler gone ice it there
Roll up a blunt standing up, and I light it there
Whip having bucket seats, whip having fighter chairs
These hoes not talking bout shit, I don’t care
Oh you not talking about chicken, then I don’t care
Paper and Grabba or Looseleaf, man I don’t care
You hit the za, you might fold like a lawn chair

I’m tryna run up these funds
Hop on a PJ, a young nigga done with charter
Horsepower, we got a bunch
I-85 to the A, I ain’t never took Marta
Ooh, do it today and you done 
That’s step 1, of living like it’s no tomorrow 
I don’t care if you the plug
If you my mans and fell on your ass, you can borrow
Yeah that’s my girl I adore her
Fuck that Pandora, gettin her Tiffany charms
Damn this hoe hard to ignore, smell like Sephora, and she got ink on her arms
Versace Jeans Couture, tryn go on tour, and show off the drip that I rock
I do this shit for the 4, having galore
I can’t even trip on no opps

Ooh, 
Trap out the fucking returns department
I ain’t wanna work in insurance department
Still kind of sick off them drugs I started
Think I got sick off your love, that’s karma
Ion wanna talk about blunts, just spark it
I wanna fuck up my lungs, I spark it
Hope they don’t look in the glove compartment
Walk in this bitch and I turn up the party
Look on her face when I stunt, astonished
Count it up, I need some gloves to wash it
Walk in the party they like, who got it
All of this za what you like, I got it
Count it up, I need some gloves to wash it
Count it up, I need to touch the profit

Vadova - Spark It

Produced by Malachi

(Lyrics)
Okay 
Pick that exotic shit straight off the shelf
Whip too exotic, got whistles and bells
Cups with no coffee leave prints on the scale
And I’m so confident, walk in Chanel
Zotty my body, you probably gone smell it
I know they salty, I’m giving them hell
Playstation parties to top of hotels
Hoes in the lobby, they ringing the bell
Okay
Knew I would always excel
Okay
Knew I been keeping it real
Way fore the chains and the whips, worked the field
Way more than flavors, I’m having them seals
Play with the paper, just stack it, it’s here
Made to be brave, I’m attacking my fears
Came to be great, and I’m lapping my peers
Came to LA, man this rapping shit serious

I fuck with my Migos, I fuck with my homies, I fuck with my shorties, I
I fuck with the custies, I fuck with the junkies, I fuck with you on the za
If you sayin fuck me, then I’m saying fuck you,
I said that a million times 
I turnt up these niggas and turnt up these bitches,
I can’t let you turn me down
I’ll stunt on you, nigga, and stunt on you bitches, you ain’t gettin no warning now
I stunt on these niggas and stunt on these bitches, and they gettin horny now
A nigga came up on the Northside, flexing by UNC-49
Broke the eleventh, was up on the twelfth, and then I went Balenci 45
I fuck with my Migos, I fuck with my homies, I fuck with my shorties, I
I fuck with the custies, I fuck with the junkies, I fuck with you on the za
If you sayin fuck me, then I’m saying fuck you,
I said that a million times 
I turnt up these niggas and turnt up these bitches,
I ca-

Okay 
Pick that exotic shit straight off the shelf
Whip too exotic, got whistles and bells
Cups with no coffee leave prints on the scale
And I’m so confident, walk in Chanel
Zotty my body, you probably gone smell it
I know they salty, I’m giving them hell
Playstation parties to top of hotels
Hoes in the lobby, they ringing the-
Okay
Knew I would always excel
Okay
Knew I been keeping it real
Way fore the chains and the whips, worked the field
Way more than flavors, I’m having them seals
Play with the paper, just stack it, it’s here
Made to be brave, I’m attacking my fears
Came to be great, and I’m lapping my peers
Came to LA, man this rapping shit serious

Vadova - Turntup.mp3

Produced By Malachi

(Lyrics)

Yessir
Uh
Yeah
Yeah
(Malachi nooo)

Ooh,
Blunt tight, just like some jeans
Green lighter, matching the steez
Seems like, I don’t even need you 
Seems like, you hating on me
Ooh, 
Buy twice, I don’t even need it 
Like minded, she just like me
Narcotic, bitch tryna geek
Call it chronic, designer weed

Yeah, I want my reefer 
Yeah, I’m tryna chief it
Ooh, why you tryna see her
You know she not tryna leave me 
Ooh, pour that shit up, man my cup never clear 
Ooh, I just dropped four in the liter 
Ooh, my life not boring, I hang with a bitch, she annoying 
You know she an eater
Ooh, hand me the keys and I steer
Ooh, show me the cheese and I’m near 
Ooh, I ain’t sipped lean in a month, but I poured up so much, that my piss never clear 
Ooh, whole 
Lot of bad bitches in here 
Whole, lot of extensions in here 
Yeah, you play with my niggas in here
Woah, it can get deadly in here

Pour it or light it
You spill it, we fighting
Was you tryna geek up tonight, cus I’m tryna
Beat it like fighting 
Or eat it like dining
My baby so fine, but can’t break it like china
I- I met that hoe at the midnight diner 
And rode through the night with the plates Carolina

(Interlude)

Ooh,
Blunt tight, just like some jeans
Green lighter, matching the steez
Seems like, I don’t even need you 
Seems like, you hating on me
Ooh, 
Buy twice, I don’t even need it 
Like minded, she just like me
Narcotic, bitch tryna geek
Call it chronic, designer weed

We got a lot of it, this shit too easy
Yeah, smoke, got a lot of it, make your ass chief
Notice my lungs got a little bit weaker
Can’t even run from my problems, can’t breathe
Tryna see all of my partners still breathing 
‘Tryn see you there, cus I’m there when you need me 
Yeah, who 
Wanting the za, what you needing
Can’t even open the bag, this bitch reeking
Ooh
Green light, I’m tryna beat it 
Green light, push like I mean it
Yeah, red seats, and that bitch heated 
Keep heat, you don’t know when you need it 
Yeah, open this bitch like a book, I can’t read it
Whip the pot, beat it
Mike Jack, beat it
Text on my phone ‘bout no money, can’t read it
No racks, beat it
Bullshit, keep it

Ooh,
Blunt tight, just like some jeans
Green lighter, matching the steez
Seems like, I don’t even need you 
Seems like, you hating on me
Ooh, 
Buy twice, I don’t even need it 
Like minded, she just like me
Narcotic, bitch tryna geek
Call it chronic, designer weed

Vadova - Like Minded

Produced by Drewtek

(Lyrics)

I love you my nigga 
Everything a nigga said, yeah that shit come from the heart, nigga 
And I done seen a lot of red, the blood from a lot of scars, nigga
And now I’m fucked up in the head, I might not put down my guard, nigga 
Ooh
Take me back to fuckin Vance, we used to swipe every card, nigga 
Take me back to Vans, and my first time hitting za, nigga 
Ooh
This shit got me in a trance, we could’ve damn did it all, nigga 
Ooh, this shit happened so damn fast, I realized that money not shit 
Yeah
If you want this shit to last, just know that that money can’t do it 
Told my twin you could have crashed, but that’s not the real damn you 
Told my twin let’s hit the A
Let’s hit New York 
I’m just tryn’ hit the damn booth
I don’t care if we smoking blunts
Or we smoking cigs
As long as I’m doing it with you 
Realize you poured into me so much, in the end I just hope that I poured into you 
Ain’t even recorded as much as I should’ve but I know that you would just want me to do it 
Lessons I learned from this Wavlyfe, better be there if you say it’s important to you 
Look in the mirror at the same time, all of my niggas, they here, we got more shit to do
Promise that I had a great time with you, that’s why it cut deep cus I’m mourning for you 
Still having work at the same time, you know my nigga not done, got unlimited music 
Niggas gone hate at the same time, stay where you at, I ain’t letting those niggas salute
What, I hold your name high
Where the fuck Nomz at, nigga, might get a tattoo
Yeah 
Let’s do it

I love you my nigga
Woah, I love you my nigga 
Slept on couches and floors in pursuit of this shit

(Ima miss you twin, I ain’t gone bap)
(We keep waving though)

dellyvadova

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