No Hook

Lyrics

[Intro] Yeah Ghetto Boyz shit, you know what the fuck going on Shit on the floor (Marc Boomin, this you?) Free the ghetto, nigga, we still on that nigga Y'all niggas can't fuck with us Yeah (Boomin need extras) [Verse] Everybody got three chains on Everybody got a thang on 'em, think you robbin' who? Take a chunk out his head, that's what the chop do Pull to the hood, count the money up, alright I gotta scoot Got a hundred racks on the floor, like we about to shoot Middleman and bought a Presi' off a hundred pounds of glue Got a bow' for thirteen, sold the bitch for twenty-two Swiped the watch for thirty racks, sold it back for twenty too Bitch, I'm a real hustler In a 2020 'Vette, it look like mustard Yea I was fucking both of them, and they like cousins Nodding off every thirty minutes, cause the sprite muddy I'm off a blue thirty, two chains and one watch, that's two birdies Sixty racks for the kit, so that's two thirties Caught a body broad day, it was 2:30, I had two 30s You better move swift Cause we got another Glock, and bought a new switch So many rounds in thirty seconds, I had two clips Keep it on me everyday, ain't on no lose shit Three chains and ain't signed, on my Lou shit Fucking with the Fetty Wap, I got a blue brick Finna make another M, I got the blueprint Stepped on a whole brick of soft and left the shoe Clip longer than a pool stick I'm finna buy a eighty carat diamond bracelet Pour six in a twenty ounce pop, I wanna taste it Get three pops out a pint, I'll waste it Stop putting your Sky Dweller in the camera 'fore I take it Yeah I still be on that one shit I still pop pop pop, 'til the gun click I'm Mr. pull up on the scene with a hun' strip Glock got a drum clip, beating cases like a drumkit Missed out on twenty racks cash, I was rushing Flipped out and beat my bitch ass, it was for nothing Nigga go against the mob, giving free smoke, want a blunt lit? I done fucked her and her friend on a drunk tip Mike ridin' with some shit make a bus flip Bumped into a opp going to Hutch getting my buffs fixed Every time I pick your hoe up, she gon' suck dick Bitch prolly talkin' 'bout me to her friends, cause I bust quick I just bought another handgun Before we fucked with the blues, had a tan run Caught a opp at Home Depot, hit him with a nail gun She gon' let the Yung OG fuck to get her nails done Just got into a fight with my sell, and the scale won They tried to initiate me in the cartel, I got a bale gone Big bro went to the feds and he had the best cell-phone Made a hunnid' racks on house arrest and I was basically in jail at home, nigga So I don't really wanna hear excuses You can do what the fuck you want, if you wanna do it You ain't never hear me mad at a nigga that ain't fuck with my music Everybody got pape' 'n jewelry, you don't know who rap, man it's so confusing I get real love.. I heard the opps at the party, I'mma still come Y'all was buying air cartridges, ah-ha, I had a real gun Hope big cuz' get an appeal, he had a pill run