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Loner Life
par
YoungBoy Never Broke Again
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Letra
[Intro] Hurt, what it do? Hzrd went crazy on that motherfucker [Chorus] You still think about me and don't like the way that I live Still can't figure out the way my heart is She know that I'm a problem, "He's a loner, not much love, he ain't got none" (Woo-woo) Thirty poppa came over (Woo, thirty poppa), come out the window, hangover (Woo) Super trendy, put that shit on with no stylist, yeah, yeah Whole lotta benjis, a hunnid bands like ten thousand, uh [Verse] She know I got that bag, I want her bad (Woo) She know I'ma stand on this shit, ok Turn the phone off 'til my whole grind turn on Rich and he ain't got no mind, what's wrong? I got the money, I changed my persona Bulletproof whip, how I'm gon' hit the corner, I'm in it (Woo, in it, I'm in it, yeah) Standin' on top of these niggas, yeah Mama, you got it, I did it, yeah On top of the mountains with millions, woah (Woo) My kids gon' have it and get it (Woo) I just might go buy my sister a Bentley I just might give my grandfather a ticket (Top) She know I'm a thug nigga, I got hitters, and know I got drugs with me From the bottom, the Nawf, grew up in it I come home from jail and they wanna put slugs in me 'Cause I'm standin' on business, don't fuck with them, nada percentage The pendant got floods in it Switch the wheels and you know it gon' rub different From the gutter and still in the mud with it Double R (Double R, double R), I take the top off that motherfucker I pull up in that Rover, it's chalk color Up inside the Goyard, that's a dirty cutter I done ran up that fetty on all these niggas Bullets rain like confetti, you played with it Come from walking with holes inside my tennis I accomplished some goals, ain't playin' tennis (Come on, slime) [Chorus] You still think about me and don't like the way that I live Still can't figure out the way my heart is She know that I'm a problem, "He's a loner, not much love, he ain't got none" (Woo-woo) Thirty poppa came over (Thirty poppa), come out the window, hangover (Woo, hangover) Super trendy, put that shit on with no stylist, yeah, yeah Whole lotta benjis, a hunnid bands like ten thousand, uh
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