Can’t Be Crete Boy Lyrics – Lil Yachty

Read the full Can’t Be Crete Boy lyrics by Lil Yachty and Veeze along with the music video, song credits, release information and other details about the song. If you enjoy Lil Yachty’s music, you can also explore Sista Wives and Murda, two other songs by Lil Yachty.

[Intro: Veeze]
Turn my headphones up a lil’ bit
Yeah
I’m the best to ever do it, n!gga
Yeah, yeah

[Verse 1: Veeze]
Breaking up happy homes, Chrome Heart made my coat
These n!ggas behaving when rappers around, they acting like Amber Rose
She a ho, so I couldn’t propose, give a fu*k if her name was Toast
Every day, I re-up on the dope, we gon’ drink us a cup with the fro
Goyard filled up with the load, dirty money, I spray it with cologne

Drive-thru, had the trap house rolling, first play with the head, she gold
I make it so she get a swimming lesson, I told her to backstroke
Yeah, you woulda thought I was a tennis lesson, I’m serving my ZIP code
I’m popping these pills, smelling like weed, don’t fu*k with award shows
He said he was standing on business, but him and the opps had a convo
I walk through the kitchen to get in the club, you standing in line, broke
Every day, dead fresh my closet, can’t live basically, I’m dying slow
I’m sipping codeine by the pint, lil’ baby, I’m sorry, I don’t drive boat
I’m throwing it up in the club, the money you’d risk your life for
I’m rocking the Concrete Air Force 1, I can’t put a price on it
My twin got big-ass stones in the ear, look like he did a heist for it

[Verse 2: Lil Yachty]
My mama paid three thousand for a bag, can’t even put her phone in it
Paid two-fifty cash for gold Patek, ain’t even have stones in it
You n!ggas so soft, we cut them boys up and ain’t got no bones in ’em
Fu*k around, fire, I spilled some blood all on my Chrome denim
N!gga mad at me, be mad at your ho, what the fu*k is wrong with him?
Y’all took that front and unintentionally doing a song with him
I-T-S-U-S, anywhere, everywhere, n!gga, we hot
These n!ggas so lame, they rock they jewelry inside the house
Ain’t fu*k with these n!ggas, I’m master, moving around like a ba*tard
Ain’t going back and forth with no sucker-ass n!gga who fill out FAFSA
First n!gga tug on my chain, make an example, make a disaster
I like my hoes no face, no case, my b!tch straight out Nebraska

[Interlude: Lil Yachty]
Swear to God I hate all these n!ggas
On my mama
N!gga, don’t ever get it confused just ’cause it’s paint on the nail, that motherfu*ker still squeeze the trigger (Brr)

[Verse 3: Lil Yachty]
Head-tap it, laid off in them tropics with some exotic s*it
Going out bad out the mouth come with consequences
You a whole ho, we seen it on the celly cam
Never catch me promoting weed on the Instagram
I wish my b!tch would try to pull a Larsa Pippen
I just pulled up wood frames, rocking Ken Griffeys
Even if I could stop, I wouldn’t abort the mission
Bought that b!tch a Tiffany bracelet and she started tripping
You can’t call me lil’ bro ’cause you ain’t richer than me
I just filled my tires up, going a hundred and sixty
Gave the b!tch a cool rack, had his ass pissy
I don’t usually do that, but that’ll make her miss me
Begging for her back, sneaking, I don’t trust him
Terrible matchup, think he fu*king with me
Hit his ass up like Dr. Miami
Bringing cash up, I’m in the sixties family
M’s

[Interlude: Veeze]
Yeah
Gang gang
Can’t Be
CB, Crete boy, yeah
Yeah, yeah

[Verse 4: Veeze]
Riding ’round the city, dirty one-liter with me
These n!ggas like police dogs, nose in my business
I know a n!gga hustle harder and he one-legged
We hop out suicide doors, the coupe got double letters
Young n!gga balling OD, they need to drug test me
I’m in the field rocking Chrome like Odell Beckham
I bought my s*it so much s*it, I got caught texting
He just another dead goofy, he is not a legend
My whole gang up, purple rain, no umbrella
Mind got me paid off of kicking s*it, Lionel Messi
White lady staring at my chain, nice, I created it
Glass pint slipping out the bottle, ooh, Cinderella
Walk down, tag a windshield like a car seller
Kill a young n!gga, make his ass meet his ancestors
We just poured a pop, probably add what your stash was
We don’t wear no Goyards for fashion, it’s cash in it, n!gga