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No More Naija Men
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I seem to go for Naija men That love to have me stressing My bredrens told me to broad my pool I might be blocking blessings Enrolling up in the school of life And learning all these lessons 'Cause time has been of the essence And clearly it's getting pressing I'm pressing buttons, I'm clued up My braids looks just like Medusa I'm tryna get all my food up I'm rapping man, ah-ah-ah A lyrical assassination I put in placement 'Cause I ain't 'bout to serve the main course This a taster I roll around the ends, find peace likе I'm Buddha Roll deep, got my hood up No beef, 'cause I'm good up You wanna be bad so bad and it's boring You constantly bring up old shit and I'm yawning You constantly bring up old shit (shit, shit, shit) Ay, like it's thе hate hollow and worry, I hang on it Took a millisecond of composure to language this Every sentence leaving your lip, I would hang on it Thoughts of walking into the sun, but our hands don't fit Ya, still jiggy, I got it I pay for it, I want it I spend, look at this change I stay stuck in some pain I stand still in the rain My hair can't back it Knee deep in your love My heart can't hack it Yeah, the constant need for affection, it keep me robust But the topic headed right back to the rearranged gut I was tryna get you to drop me and you a make us Your infatuation with pussy, you keep eyes block Why they teaching that women's the problem, educate us And why you had me deep in my feelings A sorry can't run Seen Eve with the apple, lead me into battle For a piece, he would break his bond with Jesus I'm rattled For a piece, he would let it all, all fall down For a piece, he would burn this whole thing to the ground For a piece, he would fuck up on his best friend's girl For a piece, he would, ay Like it's the hate hollow and worry, I hang on it Took a millisecond of composure to language this Every sentence leaving your lip, I would hang on it Thoughts of walking into the sun, but our hands don't fit It's the hate hollow and worry, I hang on it Took a millisecond of composure to language this Every sentence leaving your lip, I would hang on it Thoughts of walking into the sun, but our hands don't fit
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